Invisible Scars
by chandy
Summary: WIP MY first AMC story. Reviews are much appreciated. It's always bothered me that TPTB dropped the ball on Jonathan's painful past. This is a little glimpse into how I would've liked to see it play out.
1. Chapter 1

_Some people, um...ya know, spend their entire lives trying to move on. _Jonathan uttered that sentence unconsciously. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could choke them back. He wasn't usually given to such moments of deep revelation into his psyche, but it was always there under the surface, bubbling and festering like an infected sore.

Certainly he wasn't about to spill his life story to a virtual stranger. Only Erin knew the dark secrets that invaded the recesses of his mind, partly because she had lived them alongside him. But Erin was gone. Erin. He couldn't let his mind wonder there. He wouldn't, couldn't allow it. He forced himself back to the present with a jolt. Ava kept coming at him with questions and he deflected them with glossed over answers.He effectively ended any further discussion when he said, _You have to move on though, right? _Easier said than done.

Jonathan made a hasty exit into the darkened corridor. He hesitated, deciding between his room and the living room. Insomnia had been his constant companion for nights too numerous to count. His choice made, he quietly padded down the stairs.

The easy chair protested under his slight frame. Although it was the end of summer a fire roared in the fireplace. He never could quite wrap his mind around that one. It seemed rather pretentious to him. The flames danced almost hypnotically as he sat lost in his thoughts - and that was a very dangerous place to be.

A barrage of thoughts and memories crashed down upon him. Most were in jagged bits and pieces. His thoughts flew out of control and flitted from one place to another. He struggled to quiet the constant stream of consciousness, but it was a fruitless endeavor. It usually was.

Losing the battle he went with it, carried away on a sea of memories - most of them things he would rather forget. He floated until his body capitulated and fell into an uneasy and fitful slumber.

Jamie yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He stumbled wearily down the stairs. In the midst of studying he had fallen asleep on one of his open textbooks. It was a bad habit he had picked up ever since returning to med school. All he got for his effort was a crease on the side of his face and a wicked case of dehydration.

Jamie almost didn't see Jonathan until the man involuntarily jerked in his sleep. He studied him for a minute. A sheen of perspiration lay over Jonathan's knitted brows. He lay stretched out at an uncomfortable angle. _He's going to have one hell of a sore neck in the morning_, Jamie observed. He thought briefly of waking him, but decided against it. Jonathan tried to deny it, but all the residents of Wildwind knew that sleep was not something the younger Lavery got a lot of. It had gotten worse since his sister had been murdered.

Jamie gave him one final glance before heading off to the kitchen for a glass of water. He gulped down two glasses of tepid water before grabbing a couple bottles of water from the fridge to take up to his room for his marathon study session. Hopefully, the water would help keep him awake where the coffee failed.

A muffled moan drifted in from the living room. Jamie fumbled the water bottles and kicked the refrigerator door closed. It shut with a loud bang that echoed in the silence. Sometimes this old drafty mansion was downright spooky.

He scuttled out of the kitchen only to be met with a shrill cry. This time Jamie didn't hesitate. He dropped the waters alongside the chair. "Jonathan. Hey, Jonathan!" he gently shook the man's shoulder.

Jamie wasn't prepared for the reaction he elicited. Jonathan nearly shot out of his seat until he was lightly restrained by Jamie's hands. He didn't so much as settle back into the chair as cower into it. Jonathan looked around at his surroundings wildly, squinting to make out the details.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy, man. It's just Jamie."

Jonathan shifted in the chair. He nodded absently, still a million miles away. "I know. You scared the hell outta me."

"That must have been some dream, man."

"Huh?" Jonathan's gaze shifted briefly to the fireplace. "I don't remember."

The averted gaze did not go unnoticed by Jamie. He had been living with him long enough to recognize this as one of the signs that Jonathan was either hiding something or just plain didn't want to talk about it. He figured it to be both. Not to mention the fact that Jonathan was breathing as if he had just finished a 10K.

Jamie reached down and grabbed one of the water bottles and screwed the top off. He held it out to Jonathan. "Here. Drink this. You're going to get dehydrated as much as you're sweating. Why is there a fire going anyway?"

"Th- thanks," he stammered. He smirked, remembering he had wondered the same thing earlier as he accepted the bottle of water. His hands shook, spilling small droplets of water as he attempted to bring it to his mouth. Jonathan willed them to stop long enough to take a sip. He swallowed hard.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Sure. I'm fine" Jonathan put on a smile to reassure the younger man.

Jamie eyed him doubtfully. "You're sure?"

"I'm fine, James!" The latter came out sharper than he had intended. He softened his tone. "You just scared me is all. I'm fine. Really!

"Actually, it's a good thing you woke me. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to move my neck tomorrow." Jonathan rubbed his neck for emphasis. "What are you doing up anyway?"

"Study break" It was clear to Jamie that Jonathan was trying to change the subject. Jamie went along knowing that no matter how he broached the subject, Jonathan would remain a closed book.

"Well, don't let me keep you."

Jamie took this as his cue to leave. He gave Jonathan a pat on the shoulder. He couldn't help but notice the slight flinch of the older man's shoulder at his touch. "Goodnight, Jonathan."

"'Night."

Jamie paused at the foot of the stairs, giving Jonathan one last glance. He watched as the man ran his hands through his hair and then leaned back as he shakily brought the bottle of water to his lips once more, trying to keep from spilling the cool liquid, but failing miserably. He started forward, but decided against it and turned toward the steps once more.

Since he was already up the steps Jamie did not see Jonathan get up and pace the living room only to sit right back down again. He did not see him throw the bottle of water into the fireplace sending wisps of gray smoke up to the vaulted ceiling. And he did not hear Jonathan whisper a silent prayer, "Help me, Erin. Please help me."

Sunlight streamed through the windows as Jonathan emerged from the shower. The steam plumed around him and settled on the mirror. He swiped a clean streak in the mirror and studied his reflection. Instead of waking him up and putting some color in his cheeks, the shower just made him appear more drawn and tired. The dark circles under his eyes and his dark hair plastered to his forehead contrasted sharply with his pale skin.

Jonathan turned away in disgust. He nearly ripped the mirror off its hinges trying to get to the contents within. The cap to the bottle he grabbed from the shelf stubbornly refused to give. It finally gave with a resounding pop and ibuprofen spilled all over the tiles. He picked a couple up and dry-swallowed them.

He plucked another bottle from within the cabinet, turning it over in his hand. It was only prophylactic at this point. The doctor was tapering them off and in a few weeks he wouldn't be needing them at all anymore. Taking the matter into his own hands he put the pill bottle back in its home without opening it.

The T-shirt he shrugged into hugged his frame. He threw another shirt on top trying to camouflage the weight loss that he knew was beginning to show. With a sigh, he exited the bathroom preparing himself to face another day.

To his pleasant surprise the house stood largely empty. A quick glass of juice and he'd be off to work. When he rounded the corner his assumption that the house was empty proved false. Amanda stood preparing a sandwich.

"Amanda...," Jonathan started.

"I'm sorry," they both said simultaneously.

Jonathan chuckled and looked away shyly. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn't have come on to you like that. There's no excuse."

"Maybe not, but I didn't have to be such a bitch about it." Amanda smiled and held the sandwich out to him. "Truce?"

"I'll take the truce, but pass on the sandwich. Thanks though." Jonathan traced the edge of the countertop with his index finger as he inched closer to her. "What are you up to today?"

"I have a very difficult day of sunning by the pool planned." Amanda threw her forearm against her head in a melodramatic pose. She was pleased when it elicited a smile from Jonathan. Those smiles were far too scarce in her opinion. "So any exciting plans for you?"

"Not as exciting as what you've got going on." He paused to pour his juice, eyeing her the whole time. "Just a double shift."

"Brave man." Amanda jumped up and pulled some contents from the fridge. She slapped together another sandwich and held it out to him. "Please eat, Jonathan. You and I both know that sucking on limes does not quite do it for dinner."

"Well, we've got the lemons and oranges too," he attempted to joke. "Cherries?" Amanda just gave him that don't-give-me-any-crap stare. "Alright, alright. I give." He accepted the sandwich and turned it over in his hands before forcing himself to take a bite.

Amanda took a big bite out of hers. "Mmmm, my favorite. Bologna.."

The bite was already in his mouth before she had divulged that information. The mayonnaise and ketchup caused the bologna to slide along his tongue .He chewed it carefully and tried to coax it down his throat. It made an excruciatingly long journey down his esophagus before landing in his stomach like a rock.

Unaware of her friend's struggles with her culinary concoction, she delved into the next bite fiercely. "Amazing! Who knew a sandwich could be this good?"

Jonathan lost the battle to keep the sandwich where it belonged. He ran for the bathroom and barely made it before the sandwich made its second appearance of the day. Amanda had been following closely on his heels and arrived as he collapsed against the cold tile wall. He flushed the toilet hurriedly.

Amanda sat down next to him and stroked his hair. "Are you going to be okay?"

Jonathan merely nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak at the moment. As it turned out it was a wise decision. Within minutes he was dry heaving into the toilet. He sunk down to the tile floor and struggled to sit up. "Sorry about that. I'm okay now."

"Don't be sorry. Great...leave it to me to feed you poisoned sandwiches," Amanda attempted to joke.

Amanda could not know the weight her words carried. But she did not miss the shadow that passed over her friend's face right before he shot forward for another round of dry heaves. Amanda sighed and rubbed his back in a gesture of comfort.

Jonathan leaned back against the wall, panting slightly. "Sorry about that."

"Stop apologizing. You're sick. No double shift for you tonight."

Jonathan rolled his eyes towards her. Moving his head just seemed too enormous a task. "Let me just sit here a minute. I'll be okay. " He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded his head. "I'm okay."

"Like hell you are. You are not going anywhere except up to bed." Jonathan opened his mouth to protest, but Amanda cut him off. "I'll cover your shifts. You have no business being in there right now. You look like crap."

"Gee thanks," Jonathan said wryly. He gave up arguing with her. Amanda was a formidable opponent, and he didn't have the energy to explain to her that he wasn't sick. What was he supposed to say? I'm seriously screwed up and the sight of a sandwich sends me off the deep end? No thanks. He didn't want to risk alienating one of the few friends he had.

Jonathan decided to play it her way. He raised himself up slowly on shaky legs and made his way up the stairs with Amanda one step behind him the whole way. She saw to it that he was settled in. Before she turned to leave Jonathan uttered another, "I'm sorry."

"For the last time stop apologizing. You apologize way too much." One hand hung coltishly on the doorknob. "Besides I owe you for all the shifts you've covered for me recently. Take care of yourself, or you'll have to answer to me."

Amanda turned to leave, but Jonathan's voice called out, "Amanda..." She turned towards the sound of his voice expecting another apology. Instead he whispered, "Thank you." She bit her lip and smiled at him as she closed the door.

The bass beat drove through her cerebrum like an ice pick. Amanda sighed wearily. It was only halfway through the double shift. The bar was dead and she must have wiped the bar top about a dozen times. The rag had turned cold in her hand.

Truthfully, she was worried about Jonathan - more so than usual. He had always been somewhat of an enigma to everyone he met, but not to her. He wasn't so hard to figure out. He was just this guy with a big heart wrapped in layers of pain - pain he tried to hide from the world. It only made her fall deeper in love with him.

Lately, he had been more than a little exasperating with his Lily and Ava drama. She didn't know whether it was guilt or obligation, or a bit of both. Either way he carried responsibility like a chain around his neck. Amanda figured she ought to cut him some slack. The poor guy had had a rather tough year. It's no wonder he couldn't tell which end was up. And he was such a good friend to her after Babe had "died",despite the fact that he was still in mourning for his beloved sister.

As Amanda contemplated the intricacies of Jonathan Lavery, the elder Lavery walked up to the bar. "Ryan."

"Hey, Amanda. How've you been?" Ryan folded his arms and leaned atop the bar.

"Can't complain. You?" Ryan shot her a look. "Riiiiight. Forget I asked."

"I thought Jonathan was working tonight."

"He was supposed to, but I'm covering. He wasn't feeling so hot." Amanda rearranged the glasses as she spoke.

Ryan wore a look of surprise. "Really? I talked to him earlier and he sounded just fine."

Amanda threw the rag down. "Oh, man. I bet it was my sandwich that did it. I thought that mayo was a little off."

"Wh-what? Wait a second. Jonathan ate a sandwich?" Ryan punctuated each word by tapping a finger on the bar.

"What's the big deal? A bologna sandwich is a perfectly normal lunch."

"A bologna sandwich? You're kidding me right?

"Yeah, so?"

"Huh. Well, Jonathan's never been a big fan of them."

"What is he like allergic or something?"

Ryan nodded noncommitally. "Yeah, something like that."

Amanda was puzzled at this shift in the conversation. It was clear Ryan wasn't going to explain without a whole lot of prying. "Ryan, c'mon - out with it."

Ryan sighed loudly. "I wish I could explain, but it's really not my story to tell."

Amanda rounded the bar and stood next to him. "Okay, now you're starting to freak me out."

Ryan ran a hand over his face. "Again, I wish I could explain, but I can't."

Amanda's heart began beating rapidly. She didn't know if she was angry or scared, or some combination of the two. "Who do I have to torture around here to get some answers?"

Ryan's eyes grew dim. He glanced around the bar and saw they were alone. "Alright, alright. If I tell you, you have to promise me that you will not say anything to Jonathan." Amanda started to speak, but Ryan held up a finger to silence her. "Knowing that you know could really hurt Jonathan. Promise me."

The last thing Amanda wanted was to hurt one of her best friends. "I promise."

"Jonathan told me this story after he came back to Pine Valley." Ryan rocked forward on his elbows. "After I left home, when it was just Jon and Erin... my old man, he used to do sick, twisted things to Jonathan." Ryan paused, unsure of how to go on. Hearing it had been hard, but to say the words aloud somehow made it hit home even harder.

Amanda didn't prompt Ryan. She knew he would continue when he was ready. He took a deep breath and began again. "One of the things he did - he thought it would be funny to make my brother a sandwich and then watch him eat it. When Jon was halfway through, he pushed it away. Jon asked 'why' and the deranged sonofabitch told him he had put enough poison in the sandwich - a bologna sandwich, by the way - to kill him."

Amanda gasped as the realization dawned on her, but she did not interrupt. "Jonathan threw it up and figured that was it. But our sorry excuse for a father told him that it wasn't poisoned, but one day it would be. He made my little brother eat those bologna sandwiches everyday, and everyday Jon would, um - he would get sick and throw up."

The tears spilled over and trickled slowly down her cheeks. She had known they had an abusive childhood, but she could not imagine until now the depths of the madness they had lived with. Her upbringing was far from normal, but one thing was for sure - her mother and her father had loved her and protected her, to a fault. And wonderful her had just handed her friend a memory from Hell, served on a plate. "Oh my God. How could I have forced him to eat that?"

Ryan's eyes met hers. "There's no way you could've known."

"Why didn't I just listen when he turned it down the first time?"

"Amanda..."

"Why - why would he eat that, knowing what it would do to him?"

Ryan shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he didn't want to hurt your feelings. Or maybe he just didn't want to explain why he didn't want to eat it. Or maybe he was hoping that that chapter in his life was closed, and he could move on."

"Do you really think Jonathan's moved on?"

Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets and studied the floor. He slowly shook his head. "The Hell Patrick put him through - I don't know if he ever truly can."

Amanda blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over once again. "He cannot live the rest of his life under that shadow."

"I've tried to help him. Even when he lets me help, it doesn't seem to do a whole lot of good."

Amanda wore a sad smile. "Jonathan is pretty hard-headed."

Ryan cocked his head. "Yeah, that's my brother. He kinda had to be to survive." Ryan noticed Amanda's worried countenance. He placed a hand on her arm. "I'll talk to him."

Amanda nodded her thanks and went back behind the bar. As she watched Ryan leave, she tried to dampen the gnawing sense of foreboding in her gut.

_Jonathan glided along the floor. He knew his feet were moving, but they never seemed to come in contact with the ground. Before him, a stairway rose up into the darkness. Without reason he followed the staircase, one foot and then the other. His fingers traced the inner wall of the ascending hallway, but he could find no purchase. The wall seemed to be made out of the same transparent substance as the floor._

_The door at the top of the stairs creaked open, slowly, painfully. He had reached his destination and opened the door further, allowing a blinding white light to invade his sensitive orbs. _

_The cold white light dissipated like the morning fog. Through the remains of the streaming light. Jonathan saw the object of his search. She turned around, the sun rays catching the red strands and causing them to glow about her pale countenance. She laughed and the sound was like the most beautiful music he had ever heard. _

_Jonathan rushed to the form, aching to hug her, but she kept him at bay. "Erin..."_

"_My dear sweet Jonathan. How I've missed you." Erin's eyes were elated, but with an undercurrent of sadness in them._

_He took another step forward. "I've missed you too...so much." He reached out and stroked a strand of her hair. It was more a filament for all the substance it had, but he didn't care. Here was his Erin in the flesh._

"_I love you so much."_

"_I love you too Jonathan."_

"_Why, Erin? Why?" He left the open-ended question hanging in the air between them. _

_Erin merely shook her head in response. "I can't fix it for you this time, Jonathan." She turned away and began striding towards the horizon._

_Jonathan caught up to her. "No, please don't go. Not yet." His eyes betrayed his confusion and his hurt. She turned back towards him and smiled thinly. Jonathan's eyes were shiny with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Erin. I'm so sorry I wasn't there to protect you." Jonathan could no longer allow his touch to be shaken off. He enveloped his sister in a warm embrace._

_He held onto her for everything he was worth. Unbeknownst to him the landscape around them had changed. The light was no longer white, but a filtered gray. The edges were sharp and fierce. And the weight in his arms became unbearable. He looked down into the sightless eyes of his sister. "Not again. Oh no, Erin. Please not again."_

_He cradled her lifeless body to him and rocked her back and forth, much like he had done on that fateful day. "Please, no. Please, please, please..."_

Jonathan awoke with the plea still caught in his throat. He touched his cheeks and felt the dampness there. No matter how many times he had that dream, it left him with a welling sadness that could not be abated.

The four walls were closing in on him and the aching emptiness was more than he could bear. He threw on some clothes and set out for the one place where he might be able to find some comfort.

Ryan's hand hesitated mid-air before rapping briskly on the heavy wood. It was foreign to him, knocking on the door of Wildwind. There had been a time not so long ago he had called it his second home.

"Ryan," Julia greeted him.

"Hello, Julia." Ryan gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Julia stepped back from the door. "Come in. How are Emma and Annie?"

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. "You know...good. Kathy?"

Julia's face lit up. "She's amazing. But I guess I don't have to tell you. You're a parent. You know what it's like." Ryan only nodded his acknowledgment. "I get the feeling you didn't come all the way over here to make small talk."

"Actually I was looking for Jonathan. Is he uh, is he here?"

Julia shook her head, her dark hair falling in her face. "I haven't seen him, but you're welcome to go upstairs and see if he's up there."

"Thanks." Ryan's long strides carried him up the stairs in mere seconds. He found Jonathan's room disheveled, but empty. Ryan picked up a stray shirt as he crossed the threshold. It was clear the bed had been slept in as the sheets lay twisted and tangled near the foot of the bed.

He sighed. He had hoped to find Jonathan here, but it was possible his brother had been called into work early. He posed this possibility to Del as he encountered him in the hallway.

"No, man. He's not there. I've actually got the early shift today."

Ryan nodded his thanks absentmindedly as he tried to work out where his brother would've disappeared to at this time of the morning. He was about to give up when he was suddenly hit with the answer.

The ground make a crisp, crunching sound as Ryan approached the huddled form of his brother. He stood for a moment observing his younger brother who was still unaware of his presence. Jonathan's lips moved. Ryan couldn't tell if it was in silent prayer or from simple chattering. It was barely thirty degrees outside, an early frost having formed, and Jonathan was only dressed in a thin cotton shirt.

Ryan's breathed plumed around him as he began to speak. "How long have you been here?" Jonathan's attention was not diverted. His eyes continued to stare straight ahead at the words written on the marble. His lips were still moving.

The elder Lavery slipped onto the bench next to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder. "Jonathan..."

Jonathan pulled back at his brother's touch, but otherwise did not acknowledge his presence. Ryan whispered his name again. Only then did Jonathan turn his head to look at Ryan. "Hockett, what are you doing here at this hour?"

Perhaps the question did not need to be asked. The answer was, after all, pretty obvious. Jonathan responded anyway. "I just needed to be here." Jonathan's eyes slowly rose up to meet Ryan's. In them Ryan could see the lost little boy always hidden superficially beneath the surface. The dark circles only amplified the perception.

"Have you slept?"

Jonathan's arms hugged his thin form. After a slight pause, he nodded.

"How much?"

"Enough," was Jonathan's terse reply. His defenses were going up and if the final brick went up in that wall, Ryan would have no hope of breaking through. He tried another approach.

Ryan cupped the back of Jonathan's neck. His brother's icy skin was a sharp contrast to the heat that radiated from his hand. Jonathan shivered under the newfound warmth. Wordlessly, Ryan took off his topcoat and laid it across the younger man's shoulders. He did not shrug it off as Ryan feared, but he did initially reject his offer to get him someplace warm.

Ryan made another attempt. "Let's go somewhere and get a cup of coffee. Talk."

"Thank you, no. I just need to some time to think."

"What is it, Hockett? What's got you so rattled?"

"I'm fine, Ry. I just want to sit here awhile."

Ryan leaned back on the stone bench, defeated. "At least let me take you home."

"Ryan," Jonathan's voice carried a warning undertone. "When I'm ready," he emphasized, "I'll find my way home."

Ryan wondered if Jonathan realized his words carried a hidden meaning. He doubted it, but it sounded prophetic to his ears nonetheless. He encircled his arms around his brother. Jonathan did not return the hug as he usually did, but that did not deter Ryan from giving a final squeeze. Finally, he stood and took a few steps towards the walkway.

"Your jacket..."

"Keep it." Ryan did not wait for answer. Head down, he disappeared behind the brush.

Ryan didn't know how much time had passed as he stood out of sight watching his brother. His hands had grown numb in the pockets of his jeans as Jonathan finally rose. His brother leaned down and placed a hand on the headstone before trudging wearily off into the distance. Only then did Ryan climb into his car and turn over the engine.

Annie greeted Ryan at the door. "I'm glad you're home. Emma's been asking for her daddy to tuck her in." She planted a kiss on his lips.

"Yeah, sorry it took me so long. I lost track of time." He slipped off his sports coat and hung it on the rack.

"Were did you go anyway? And where's your jacket?"

Ryan ran a hand through his close-cropped hair. "Long story." Emma bounded down the steps and jumped into his arms temporarily relieving him of the need to explain. "Let's say we get you up to bed."

Annie blew her daughter a kiss as she was being carried upstairs. She set about the task of straightening up the living room as she awaited Ryan to come back down. When he did finally descend the steps only minutes later, she could plainly see something was amiss.

Annie led her husband over to the couch. The fireplace crackled invitingly. She tried to wait out the silence, but when he failed to speak, she gently prompted him. "So what's going on? What's got you so tense?"

She continued to trace circles on his hands with her thumbs as he spoke. "Jonathan."

"Jonathan?" Her face belied her puzzlement. "I thought everything was okay. I thought he was doing okay."

"Me too." Ryan chewed on his lip, gathering his thoughts. "But I'm not sure anymore. I found him at the cemetery -"

"Not so weird."

"No, but the fact that he walked there in this weather without a coat is."

"Okay, maybe not the wisest decision, but hardly grounds for concern."

"Maybe not. But it was more than that. There was this look in his eyes... this ... disconnection."

"Maybe it's from lack of sleep. You yourself have said Jonathan's insomnia is nothing new." Annie became disconcerted as Ryan stood up and paced frenetically in much the same manner that she was accustomed to see Jonathan doing.

He stopped pacing and faced her once again. "No, it's more than that. That look...I haven't seen him look like that since before the surgery."

"Wait a second. Are you saying maybe the tumor's back? That he could be a danger?"

Ryan scrubbed his hands over his face. "No, I'm not saying the tumor's back or that he's dangerous. It was like before, but different." Ryan looked into the confused face of his wife. "I know I'm not making any sense. There wasn't any malice in his eyes. It was like he was withdrawn - totally withdrawn and lost and afraid.

"You were right. I should have got him help - forced him if I had to - after Erin. He's been through so much."

"Yeah. Yeah, he has." Annie rubbed a soothing hand up and down Ryan's arm as he chewed on a nail. "More than anyone should have to go through. And what he did for me and Emma, I can never repay him for. But I know it cost him."

Ryan nodded absently. "That's Jonathan. He'll put himself through the wringer if it means sparing someone he loves."

"That sounds pretty accurate from what I've seen."

"I wish he would let me help him. I may have left him when he was little, but I refuse to stand by and do nothing now."

"Ryan, Jonathan has told you that was in the past. He's forgiven you for it. Erin forgave you. Why can't you forgive yourself.?"

"You didn't look into your brother's eyes as he called you 'Dad'. You didn't hear him begging me not to hit him because he thought I was our father. The fear, Annie - the fear. You can't imagine. Through his delusions and hallucinations, I got a glimpse into Jonathan's Hell firsthand and it physically sickened me that I had left my brother with that monster. What he did to him -"

Tears pricked the corner of Annie's eyes. Her heart hurt for both her husband and the brother he loved so much. "Ryan, you did the best you know how. You protected him as well as you could. If you stayed would it have really been any different? You escaped your own Hell"

"Yeah, I did. I got lucky. But Jonathan...he wasn't just beat on; he was tortured. I'm not so sure that's a Hell he'll ever be free of." Ryan's watery blue eyes met his wife's for the first time since he began speaking. "I'm terrified for him. I think he's descending into his own personal Hell, and I have no idea how to save him from himself."

Jonathan snapped his cell phone shut. Ryan had left him yet another message. He supposed he was avoiding him, but he was just growing weary of people treating him like he was about to break in two. He hefted the case of glasses up from the shelf in the storage room and made his way into the bar.

Amanda met him halfway. "Here, let me take those." She reached for the glasses.

"I got them." Amanda looked doubtful but dropped her hands back down to her sides. "Really," Jonathan reassured her as he plopped them down on the counter. "See. No problem."

"Jonathan, you've been here since this morning. You're exhausted. Go home, I've got this." She indicated the nearly empty bar.

"I don't care how empty it is. I'm not leaving you to close down a bar alone."

Amanda looked up and smiled as Josh walked in. "I'm not alone. Josh'll stay with me, won't you?"

"Either you guys were talking about me, or I have impeccable timing as usual." He skipped down the steps and grabbed a seat at the bar. Jonathan shook his hand and set him up for a drink.

A few more patrons trickled in as Jonathan went to return the case to the storage area. He lifted it up on the high shelf, but was hit with a sudden wave of dizziness. He sat down on an old box to steady himself.

In a few moments, it passed and he was able to return to the bar. "Where did you go to put that away? B.J's?"

"I was just straightening up a bit." Jonathan turned around to grab a pitcher of water, but his hand fell slightly short of the mark. He made two more attempts before his hand closed on the target. Josh watched all this with interest.

"You know, Jonathan, if you wanna get out of here, I'll wait around for Amanda." Josh sipped his beer nonchalantly.

"Are you two in cahoots together? I appreciate the offer, but I can hang another hour."

Josh inched closer to the bar, making his way to the side Jonathan was on. He watched as Jonathan picked up a glass and brought it tentatively to his lips. He set it down without incidence. Josh wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for, but Jonathan did not look himself. He wanted to stick close, not so much for Amanda's sake, but Jonathan's.

"So Amanda, tell me, what's a hot girl like you doing in a dump like this?" Josh turned on his most charming smile.

Amanda threw a lemon slice past his ear. "Watch it. I thought we were past all that."

"You can never have too much of a good thing."

"Cut it out. I don't miss a second time." She arced her arm back, ready to fire at the next thing that came out of his mouth.

Jonathan slipped around Amanda. "We're out of Heineken. I'm going to go grab some."

Amanda watched him walk off before she continued her banter with Josh. They were both so deep in their conversation that neither one noticed that he had returned until they heard the resounding crash of the beer bottles hitting the floor. A stray bottle, still intact, had landed an inch from Amanda's foot.

Josh's focus was on Jonathan. He slid off his bar stool and approached him. "Are you okay man?" Jonathan wanted to answer, but he couldn't. Time had slowed down until it was standing still and then everything faded to black.

Josh watched Jonathan's eyes roll back in his head and he knew what he was witnessing. He caught him before he keeled over and gently lowered him to the floor before the seizure hit full force.

"Oh my God." Amanda came out from behind the bar, rocked by the sight of her friend thrashing uncontrollably on the floor.

Josh struggled to keep the back of Jonathan's skull from rhythmically hitting the marble floor. He was all too familiar with Jonathan's medical history having witnessed one of his seizures before.

"We need to get him to the hospital." Amanda had been with him for the last seizure too and she was no less frightened this time around.

Still holding a firm grip on Jonathan's head, Josh snuck a look at his watch. "Let's not panic just yet. It's been going on two minutes. It should be slowing down soon." No sooner had the words left Josh's mouth then Jonathan's body seemed to relax. "But it wouldn't be a bad idea if we could give him some air," Josh said glancing around at the small crowd of on-lookers that had formed.

Amanda let out the breath she had been holding. "Please, we need everyone to exit the bar immediately. We're closing up now." Most of the few stragglers were respectful and left. Amanda showed the last one out the door.

"Amanda," Josh's voice rose up from around the bar counter. "I need you for a sec."

She hurried over to the spot where Jonathan lay twitching and thrashing once again. "What's happening?"

"He's having another one. I'm holding his head, but I need you to get him on his side as fast as you possibly can."

Amanda didn't have time to do anything but listen. She, as gently as she could, pushed Jonathan over on his side. It was a struggle. "Go on, you're not hurting him," Josh encouraged her.

Finally his weight shifted the way it was supposed to - and with not a second to spare. Jonathan vomited profusely. "Keep him on his side, Amanda. Keep him there or he could aspirate."

Amanda did as she was told all the while trying to still her shaking hands and blink back the tears.

"I think it's time to call the EMTs now." Josh grabbed his cell and summoned the ambulance. Amanda barely heard him, her attention focused on Jonathan. His color was a sickly, ashen gray. The rise and fall of his chest was erratic and failed to put her at ease.

"He's going into another one." A thin sheen of perspiration had broken out on Josh's brow from the physical effort of keeping the airway open..

"Wait, three seizures in a row? Is that even possible?"

"Yes, it is. It's called status epilepticus." Josh stopped answering Amanda's questions so he could attend to his patient. Jonathan was turning blue around the lips. He needed to be oxygenated. "Where are those guys? C'mon!"

It seemed like an eternity before the flashing red lights could be seen bouncing off the mirror behind the bar. Amanda was pushed back in a flurry of activity. She twisted her necklace in worry as she caught bits and pieces of the conversation.

"We need to protect his airway. Tube him."

"Start a line...get some Ativan."

"Jesus, here comes another one."

"...history of a brain tumor."

"We need to get him there now."

The words swirled in eddies around her head leaving her lightheaded. She struggled to catch her breath as she watched Jonathan being strapped down and lifted onto the gurney. One lifeless hand slipped off the edge, and it was quickly placed back by one of the paramedics.

Josh had to grab her shoulders to get her attention. "Amanda, go with him. I'll follow in my car, okay?"

Amanda shook her head to clear it. "No. You go. You used to be a doctor. You can be of more help."

"Amanda, I don't think it's a good idea you driving in the shape you're in."

"Josh, you'll do him more good. I'll be fine. Please," she pleaded with him.

Josh reluctantly agreed. Amanda waited until the door to the ambulance shut before dissolving into tears.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm not sure why the first part posted without breaks in scenes - I apologize. But on to part two..._

Ryan heard the music from a distance. He was in that state in between dreaming and waking where the outside world filtered through his subconscious. Slowly, he came to wakefulness, searching for the source and realized it was coming from his cell phone. Before it could stop its incessant song, Ryan flipped it open. "Hello," he whispered sleepily.

"Ryan, it's Amanda -"

"Amanda, what time is it? Is everything okay?"

"It's your brother. He's being taken to Pine Valley Hospital."

Ryan was now sitting up straight in bed. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"He's having seizures - lots of them. They can't stop them." Her voice broke despite the effort she was taking to control it.

Ryan was already out from beneath the covers and throwing on some jeans. "I'm on my way." He pulled on yesterday's shirt as he leaned in to wake up Annie.

She rolled over, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "I heard. Is everything okay?"

"It's Jonathan...They're taking him to the hospital." Ryan sounded slightly out of breath. He didn't know if it was from the sudden flurry of activity or from shock. Given his physical fitness, the latter seemed like a pretty safe bet.

Annie peered up at Ryan. "What is it? What's wrong?" She unknowingly echoed the questions he had asked Amanda mere seconds ago.

"Amanda said he's having seizures." Ryan threw on a watch and scooped up his wallet. "I'll call you when I know something."

Ryan hesitated briefly, but Annie snapped him out of it. "Ryan, it's your brother. Go. Go!" Annie watched until he was safely out the door. She sat up and flipped on the tv. There was no way she was going back to sleep. Worry pricked at the corners of her mind.

She had come to care for Jonathan quite a bit, almost as much as Ryan. She understood the fierce, protective love Ryan had for him; she had felt it too. They had already lost their sister. If anything ever happened to Jonathan... She said a silent prayer for both of them.

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Ryan came running through the ER bay, nearly colliding with Amanda. "Amanda, where is he? Is he okay? Can I see him?"

Amanda answered his stream of questions by simply pointing her finger towards the room in the corner. Ryan walked solemnly up to the window and stared in horror at the sight before him. Jonathan's body bucked and arched against the bed, his head twisting at unnatural angles as one of the nurses struggled to keep the tube down his throat in place. The curtain was abruptly pulled shut, but before it was, Ryan got a glimpse of his brother's clothes being cut off.

The door opened and he caught some of the frantic words streaming out. "The Ativan's not working. I need some IV Dilantin stat!" The voices faded as the door swung shut.

Ryan pressed a hand to the glass wishing he could be with his brother. He had been on this side of the glass before with Jonathan and it never got any easier.

"Ryan," Josh laid a hand on Ryan's shoulder. Ryan only half-turned, one eye on the closed curtain.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"They're trying to get his seizures under control right now. They're having some difficulty..."

Ryan knew the question needed to be asked, but he was afraid of the answer. "What caused them?"

Josh spoke in a hushed tone, aware of what was on all of their minds. "That's what they're trying to figure out."

"What could it be?"

"Lots of things. Infection. A head injury -"

"Another brain tumor," Ryan finished for him.

Josh nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, that is a possibility." Ryan's head dropped when the words were spoken aloud. "But a recurrence of a benign tumor is extremely rare."

"But not impossible?"

Any further discussion was halted when Jonathan was wheeled out. "Well, the seizures appeared to have stopped. That's something," Josh offered what comfort he could.

"Where are they taking him?"

"Probably to get a CAT scan," Josh speculated.

Joe Martin exited the room on the heels of the gurney. "Joe. Joe, can I see him for a minute?"

Dr. Martin removed his glasses and indicated to the medical team to stop. "Just one minute, Ryan. We need to get a scan of his head."

Without responding, Ryan leaned over the rails of the gurney. He gripped Jonathan's hand in his own, mindful of the IV line and pulse ox monitor. He reached up to stroke his hair, but was stopped by the tube in his brother's throat helping him to breathe. "I'm here, Hockett. Everything's going to be okay." Ryan's vision blurred with his tears. He blinked furiously to clear his vision. He couldn't believe they were somehow here again.

"Ryan, we have to take him down now," Dr. Martin stated gently.

"Okay. Hockett, I'll be here when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere." Ryan had trouble getting the feel of Jonathan's clammy, ashen skin against his out of his head as he watched his brother being wheeled off. His heart was filled with dread as he settled in for a long night of waiting.

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Ryan started out of the chair when he felt the tap on his shoulder. He squinted with one eye against the sunlight at Amanda. "He's waking up."

Instantly, Ryan came to attention. He sat up and was relieved to see Jon's blue eyes staring back at him questioningly. "Hockett..."

Jonathan's hands tried to find their way up to his face. Ryan reached out to keep his hands away from the endotracheal tube until he realized they were already held by restraints. Jonathan came to this realization too and began fighting violently against the restraints.

"Shhh, Hockett. Shhh," Ryan attempted to calm his brother down to no avail. "Alright, alright." Jonathan continued to tug at the restraints, the bedframe creaking in protest..

Ryan grabbed both his brother's hand in his own. Jonathan's strength surprised him and he constantly had to readjust his grip. "Amanda, can you go get the doctor please?"

Amanda was unsettled by the sight, but turned and left to do as Ryan asked.

"Hockett, settle down. Please. It's okay." Ryan smoothed his hair back and continued to shush him. His hands slid up to the restraints locked around his brother's wrist and he strained to release them. Finally, Jonathan's left hand popped free and he visibly relaxed. "Okay, let me get the other one."

Ryan reached over him and freed the other hand. He kept his hands over Jonathan's to prevent him from reaching up towards the tube. He met his brother's eyes. He recognized the look of relief and thanks that washed over him.

The elder Lavery scooted closer. He laid a hand on the side of Jonathan's face. "What happened, Hockett?"

Jonathan's eyes flitted to the machines and then back to Ryan. He held his gaze for a second, but then his eyelashes fluttered wildly. Ryan's heart leapt in his throat, fearing another round of seizures. Jonathan blinked hard as a single tear made a trail down past his ear.

Ryan's head dropped. He hated to see any one he loved in pain, but there was something about seeing his younger brother vulnerable and helpless that cut him to his very core. He supposed there would always be a part of him that wanted to protect the man that he could not protect as a little boy. So far he felt he had failed miserably.

The door swung open with a whoosh. "I hear Jonathan's awake." Dr. Martin stepped up to the foot of the bed, eyeing the monitors. He checked the settings on the ventilator and seemed to ponder the readings. "I think we can safely take the tube out. Ryan, maybe you should wait outside."

"Yeah, okay. Hockett, I'm going to be right back okay?" Jonathan's eyes trailed him out the door.

Amanda pulled Ryan aside in the hallway. "What the hell was that? Why was Jonathan freaking out?" Her worry came across angrier than she meant it to.

"He just doesn't like being restrained, that's all." The weariness was showing through in his voice.

"That was a lot more than just being a bit uncomfortable with being tied down."

"What answer are you looking for?" All the strain of the past twelve hours came crashing down on his shoulders. "You really want to know why? Ever since our father decided to tie Jonathan up and beat him for sport, or lock him the closet, he's been a little wary of being tied down. And when he got tired of that game, some mornings he would wake Jonathan up by smothering him with a pillow until he passed out or nearly drowning him in the shower. And that's just the stuff I know about. Isn't that enough," Ryan spat out.

Amanda recoiled as if struck. Ryan instantly felt bad for the baggage he dumped on her. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just..."

The fire faded out of her eyes. She placed a comforting hand on his arm. "I understand. Where Jonathan's concerned I guess we both feel a little protective of him."

Ryan didn't have an opportunity to respond as Dr. Joe came out of Jonathan's room. "We were able to successfully remove the breathing tube. His numbers are all staying up on the oxygen. But we do want to keep him here for a couple more days for observation."

Joe led Ryan over to the waiting area. "His CAT scan came back." Ryan tensed awaiting the results. "There's some scar tissue from where the tumor was removed, but there is no tumor there."

The tension slid out of his shoulders. "Is the scar tissue - is that what caused the seizures?"

"No, there's not enough there to be significant. But we did find a few things that concerned us. The Dilantin level in his blood was near zero. I'll have to consult with the neurologist, but according to my records he should still be taking it."

"Dilantin?" Ryan was searching for the reason behind the medication, but at that moment it eluded him.

"It's the anti-seizure medication he was put on to prevent seizures. Now Jonathan hasn't had seizures in quite some time, and it looked like he was going to be weaned off of it soon. But if it's abruptly stopped it can actually cause seizures."

Ryan let this information sink in. "So you think maybe Jon took it upon himself to just stop taking it?"

"That's a distinct possibility. Right now his levels are nearing therapeutic, and if he stays on the medication I don't think the seizures will recur. But that leads me to the other problem. His electrolytes were all out of wack. Has he been eating?"

Ryan slumped down, defeated. "I, um...I'm not really sure."

Amanda spoke up. "No, not really. I've been practically force feeding him, but he eats less than Emma or Kathy. And sometimes when he does eat, it doesn't always stay down." Amanda looked down embarrassed, remembering the sandwich incidence. "I should've said something sooner."

Ryan placed his hand atop hers. "You couldn't have known." He turned to the older doctor. "So what do we do for him?"

"We're replacing his electrolytes, but that's only a temporary fix. He needs to start taking better care of himself."

"But he's going to be okay?"

"Given a little time, I'd say he'll recover just fine. He might be a little out of sorts for the next few days given all the seizures."

"Just out of - just out of curiosity, how many seizures..." Ryan couldn't complete the question. He wasn't even sure he wanted to know the answer.

Dr. Martin sighed. "The EEG shows eight continuous seizures. And he had a small one down in CT."

"Nine seizures," Amanda squeaked out.

"I've got to go hunt down that neurologist," Joe excused himself.

"Thanks, Joe," he stammered out. Ryan stood dumbfounded for a moment. His brother had nine seizures! How could this have happened? How could he not have noticed Jon was losing weight and not eating? Not taking his medicine? He didn't even realize Jon still took medicine. The tumor was a distant, yet painful memory.

Ryan stepped through the door and let his eyes rest on the now-sleeping form of his little brother. A lump formed in his throat as he realized just how many warning signs he missed - or chose not to see. "I'm so sorry, Hockett," he whispered.

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When Aidan entered the hospital room, Jonathan was already dressed and reclining on the bed. "Hey mate, you ready to go?"

Jonathan's eyes narrowed slightly. "Almost. They haven't s-sprung me yet. Where's Ryan?"

"He got called away sorta unexpectedly on that business venture you two were working on. He asked me to fill in. I thought he said he told you."

"He might have. The last couple days are sort of...fuzzy."

For the first time Aidan noticed just how pale and small his friend looked. The bed practically seemed to swallow him. Aidan took a seat next to the bed. "Listen, Jonny...I'm sorry I was giving you a hard time about Ava. I'm just worried is all."

Jonathan seemed to consider this. "I'm sorry too." He let out a large sigh and adjusted his position. "You were right, you know."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"You know you want to tell me 'I told you so'."

Aidan broke into a grin. He was stopped from going on by the entrance of the nurse, followed by Amanda. "Somebody here need some walking papers?" Amanda waved them coquettishly around.

"Listen, I'm going to go bring the car around." Aidan grabbed a few things and left.

Jonathan signed the last of the paperwork, looking up into Amanda's radiant face. "Why are you smiling?"

"You're coming home. And speaking of that." She patted the seat of the wheelchair.

Jonathan groaned, but he knew there was no use protesting. "Since when do they let you drive?"

"Since I bribed them."

"Hahaha. Very funny," Jonathan said wryly.

"Seriously, I wanted to talk to you." Amanda came around and sat on the edge of the bed facing Jonathan.

"Well, I'm pretty much a captive audience, so..."

"You scared me, Jonathan."

Jonathan ran his fingers through his hair briskly and cocked his head to the side, meeting her gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. You know that, right?"

Amanda returned his gaze. "Of course I know that. But what happened?"

Unable to look Amanda in the eye, Jonathan's eyes flew guiltily around the room.. "I guess I forgot to take my meds."

"Forgot, or chose not to?"

"Amanda -"

"Look, I'm not trying to lecture you, but you and I both know that you've never forgotten. "

"I was being taken off them anyway."

Amanda laid her hand atop his. Jonathan glanced down at their hands, looking up only when she spoke. "You're smarter than that, Jonathan. You knew what would happen, didn't you?"

Jonathan looked away sheepishly. He didn't deny it, but he didn't confirm it either. And Amanda didn't force the issue. She could read the exhaustion on his face, despite his efforts to conceal it.

"I just want you to take better care of yourself. Whether you know it or not, people care about you - even if you don't care about yourself."

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Amanda's words echoed in his head the whole way home. On some level, he knew she was right. He should take better care of himself and pay attention to the damage he was doing. But the awful truth was, if he was completely honest, he didn't give a damn anymore what happened to him. There were times in his childhood when he had prayed for one final blow or the pillow to be held just a little longer, just so he could be released from that prison. It could finally be over. But it was never over, and he wasn't sure it would ever be.

Now he lived in a prison he partially helped create. He had killed four people and done other unspeakable things. Whether he was held responsible by others or not, he could not let himself off the hook that easily. He had to live with his past everyday, if one could call it living.

Although he knew there were people that cared for him - Ryan, Amanda, Annie to name a few - he could not reconcile reality with his disbelief that he was worthy of that concern and love. He had fucked up almost every important relationship he had ever had. It wasn't so much self-destruction as it was fear.

Every time he opened himself up and put his complete faith in someone, they left. Ryan left him when he was younger. Lily left him because he had hidden his recovery from her, never mind the fact that she couldn't accept him for who he was. And Erin - Erin was cruelly ripped out of his life. The one person who had never let him down... Now who could he turn to? He was tired of being left behind with only his demons to keep him company.

He was too tired for the level of self-analysis that was running through his head. It was a relief to pull up to Wildwind and be engulfed by his concerned roommates.

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Di pulled the curtain aside when she heard the gravel crunching underneath the tires. She watched with interest as Aidan exited the driver's side and pulled some bags out of the trunk. Amanda climbed out of the backseat and opened the passenger door that Jonathan appeared to be having some trouble with.

Jonathan pulled himself up shakily, leaning heavily on the door for support. Amanda offered her arm, but he brushed it away. She refused to take no for an answer and gripped his arm anyway. Di was amused by this as it was a metaphor for their whole relationship.

"What's up, sis?"

Del had come up behind her and she let the curtain drop back into place. "Jonathan's home," she said simply.

"Dude, he looks _awful_!"

"Del," Di warned. "Why don't you do something useful and see if they need any help." Del just shrugged and did as he was told, and nearly collided with Jamie as he entered the foyer.

The door swung open, aided by Aidan's foot. Del grabbed a bag that had fallen to the floor. Jonathan made his way up the steps, planting each foot carefully as Amanda gently guided him.

The six of them stood awkwardly in the foyer, no one sure of exactly what to say. Jonathan stood with his arms protectively hugging himself, aware all eyes were on him. He was at a loss for words.

The silence was broken by Julia as she came down the stairs. "Why is everyone standing in the doorway? Is there some secret meeting I didn't know about?" It took her a second before she caught sight of Jonathan. "Oh. Well...Don't just stand there. Let him get in the door."

Jonathan looked up at Julia gratefully. "Th-thanks," he stammered. He gave a half-wave. "Hi." It was lame, but all he could think of to say.

The group slowly adjourned into the living room. Amanda hung back. "Do you want to go upstairs and lie down? Or maybe get something to eat?"

"No, thank you though."

"Well, we were going to have one of our legendary game nights. You're welcome to join us if you feel up to it," Jamie offered.

"Maybe I could just watch?"

Jamie slung an arm around Jonathan's shoulder. "That's totally okay, as long as you don't mind being the official spinner during the Twister game."

"I think I can manage that," Jonathan gave a sideways grin as he slowly came down the steps into the living room. He looked for a place to sit and decided on the couch.

Amanda returned with a small cup of soup, the steam leaving a ethereal trail behind her. She held it out to Jonathan. "Please eat something."

"Amanda..."

"Jonathan, I'm not taking no for an answer." She place the cup in his hand. "You will eat this or I'll take you back to the hospital myself."

Jon looked recalcitrant, but he accepted the cup. Amanda started off to join the others, but she gave one more glance back. Jonathan put the cup up to his lips and sipped, but as she turned away he lowered it again.

Even though he was too worn out to participate, he was content to be a spectator to all the fun. These were the types of interactions he had ached for as a little kid, and it was refreshing to watch.

Jonathan almost laughed out loud at an argument that ensued over an illegal move Amanda felt Del had made. "You can't do that," she protested.

"Yeah, who says?"

Amanda picked up the box. "Mattel," she pointed out.

"Gimme that!"

"No way! You knew the rules and you broke them."

"Now who's not playing fair?"

"It's for your own good."

"_It's for your own good, Jonny," his father sneered at him. "This time I'm gonna teach you a lesson that'll stick."_

_Jonathan trembled at the sight of the belt being drawn. "Please, daddy. I didn't do it. I swear."_

"_You're a little liar on top of being a thief." His father advanced on him menancingly, the belt swinging back and forth in his hands. The light glinted off the belt buckle as it swayed._

"_No, Ryan gave me those gloves." Jonathan threw up his hands protectively in anticipation of the blows to come._

"_Liar!" Patrick doubled the belt and snapped it loudly._

_Jonathan shook his head fervently, knowing it was futile. He closed his eyes waiting for the pain to begin._

"_And - don't - you - EVER - mention - your - brother's - name - again!" Each word was punctuated by the slap of the belt against Jonathan's back._

"_Please stop, daddy. Please stop. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I'm sorry. Please stop. Please..."_

"Jonathan?" Di gently shook his shoulder and got no response. "Are you alright?"

"Oh God, maybe he's having seizures again," Jamie worried.

Amanda took the cup that was leaning dangerously in his hand. "I've seen his seizures and this isn't it. Trust me."

"Yo, Jon!" Del clapped his hands loudly in front of his face.

Jonathan gasped and jumped higher on the couch. "Moron," Di chided Del quietly.

"Jonathan, are you okay?" Julia placed a concerned hand on his arm.

He nodded shakily. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He crossed his arms to hide his trembling hands.

"Dude, you were like a million miles away."

"I'm sorry," Jonathan muttered, wiping a line of sweat off his upper lip and quickly recrossing his arms. "Maybe I'm more tired than I thought," he excused.

Amanda smiled sympathetically. "Let's get you up to bed then." She gently unwrapped the blanket from around his legs and helped him to stand. She placed a hand on his back, and guided him to the stairs. He barely seemed to notice, but Amanda did not fail to register the cold sweat that soaked through his shirt.

She tried to give a reassuring smile over her shoulder to the rest of the group, but it felt false, even to her.

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"Uncle Jon!" Emma threw her arms around his neck in greeting as he lifted her up and carried her to the table.

Annie quickly rose out of her chair and offered to take Emma. "It's okay, Annie. I got her."

"I know you do, but maybe you should take it easy for awhile."

"It's been more than a week. I'm fine," Jonathan stated matter-of-factly as he lowered Emma into her seat. He greeted his brother with a hug.

Ryan seemed to linger a little longer in the hug than he normally did. Jon extricated himself and frowned at the way he was being scrutinized. "I'm okay. Really," Jonathan tried to reassure him.

The elder Lavery snapped out of his thoughts and clapped a hand on Jonathan's shoulder. He winced inwardly at the rigid feel of bone against his hand. "Let's order. Whaddya say?"

Jonathan shrugged, relieved to be out from under the microscope for the time being. He opened his menu, pretending to study it. In reality, he knew what he wanted - nothing. His minuscule appetite had been reduced to nothing after being pumped full of medications. It wasn't until he saw Ryan staring intently at him that he noticed the slight fluttering of the menu, caused by his shaking hands. Another wonderful side effect of the medication. At least, he blamed it on the medication.

He refused to offer any explanation to his brother, ignoring his questioning eyes. Emma was trying to get his attention. It was a welcome diversion from the poorly hidden sidelong glances between Annie and Ryan.

The whole meal proved no less awkward. Jonathan alternated pushing food around his plate and dodging the disapproving glance of his older brother. He leaned back with a heavy sigh. Just as he was reaching for his water a resounding crash echoed from the back . His body jerked in surprise, spilling the contents of the water glass.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh my God. I'm so sorry." Jonathan scrambled to mop up the pooling water. "I'm sorry -"

"Hockett. Hockett, it's okay."

Jonathan's eyes seemed focused beyond the table. Annie felt a pit grow in her stomach as she looked into the guilt-ridden face of her brother-in-law. "Emma, sweetie, why don't you go play some of those video games?" Annie handed her a handful of quarters, instructing her to stay where she could be seen.

Jonathan went on with his apologies. "It's just water, Hockett. It's okay. But YOU are not okay."

Jonathan blinked and seemed to come back into himself. "Yes. No. I'm fine, Ryan. Really."

Annie laid her hand on his still-trembling one. The iciness of his hand surprised her. "Jonathan, please tell us what's going on with you. We're really worried about you."

"You don't normally freak out over spilling a glass of water. So what gives?"

"The crash...it just scared me is all."

"You're shaking."

"I've been shaking all evening. I thought you had noticed as much as you were looking at my hands."

Ryan dropped his head, knowing he was caught by his brother's keen sense of observation. "Yeah, I've been wondering what that's about."

"Medication." Jonathan did not elaborate.

Ryan leaned forward on both elbows. "Okay, that explains the shaking, but what about going overboard on the apologies?"

"I overreacted. It's nothing. I'm fine." Jonathan pushed aside the water-soaked napkins in disgust.

"Jonathan you are NOT fine," Ryan insisted.

"I wish everyone would stop telling me how I am instead of taking my word for it."

"No offense, Hockett, but I don't believe you."

"That's your choice."

Annie watched the volley with growing concern. She understood her husband's worry for she felt it too, but the more he interrogated Jonathan, the more he pushed him away. She wanted to stop Ryan from going on, but she sensed that if she stepped in on her brother-in-law's behalf it would only further anger him. He was still capable of defending himself.

"I think you need -"

"I think you need to stop," Jonathan's voice carried a warning tone.

"Jon-"

"I'm done here." Jonathan rose abruptly and walked out without a goodbye, uncustomary for him.

Ryan rubbed his hands over his face and sat back with a sigh. "My brother's in trouble."

"I know," was all Annie could say.

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Jonathan tried to slip inconspicuously into the Confusion office. He hadn't been there in several weeks and he felt guilty knowing Amanda had shouldered a large part of the responsibility. Besides, work would be a welcome distraction from all the chaos of his life.

He reached into the file cabinet and took out some papers with the intention of catching up on the books. The files were in disarray and it took him a minute to sort through them . He finally settled on one and picked it up. A rectangle object slid out and floated to the floor.

Jonathan bent down to retrieve it and knew immediately from the feel of it that it was a photograph. He turned it over and his breath caught in his throat. The picture had lain in the drawer forgotten until now. It was a picture of the two of them ice skating two winters ago. Ryan must have taken it and caught them unawares, Erin's features frozen in mid-laugh at what he presumed was something he said.

He turned the photograph over once again and made out Erin's flowery lettering: "A happy memory -here's to many more." She finished it with her signature smiley face. Jonathan lovingly traced the edge with his fingertip, longing for the clock to rewind to that day.

The door opened with a loud bang, jarring him out of his reverie. "Jonathan, what are you doing here?"

"Kendall, I, um - I figured I would help catch up on some paperwork. I know Amanda must be swamped."

Kendall skirted around the table and approached the desk. She got a glimpse of the photograph Jonathan was still clutching. She smiled sadly at him knowing where his mind was. "That's a great picture."

Unaware he was still holding on to it, Jonathan glanced down. Once he realized it remained in his hand he dropped it as if it were on fire. "Yeah, sorry about that. I really did come here with the intention of balancing the books."

"Are you sure you should be here?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, it's hasn't been that long..." Kendall trailed off, unsure of how to finish.

Jonathan sighed and shifted in the chair. "It's been long enough."

Kendall looked wary. "Jonathan - "

Jonathan stood up. "I'm fine. See, I'm standing upright and everything."

"Frankly, you look like hell."

"Thanks," he said sarcastically. "Despite what everyone thinks, I am capable of doing this job."

"No one said you weren't capable. You and Amanda have single-handedly kept this place afloat. Maybe you need more time -"

"I don't need more time," he spat out. "What I need is for everyone to stop treating me with kid gloves and let me get on with my life."

"The holidays are coming up -"

"Our busiest time of year."

"Yes," Kendall conceded, " but I think it would be better if maybe you waited until after the holidays to come back."

Jonathan's eyes narrowed to slits. "I see what this is about. You've been talking to Ryan, haven't you," he accused.

Kendall averted his gaze and dodged the question. "You have a lot of vacation time you haven't used. I want you to use it now."

Jonathan clenched his jaw. "Fine. Whatever you want."

He breezed past her. "Jonathan...," she called after him, but he was already out the door.

"Well, I handled that well."

Kendall went about the task of straightening up the files. She wasn't even halfway through the pile when Amanda came storming in. "I just saw Jonathan. What the hell happened?"

"I sent him home."

"What? You fired him? You can't do that! He was sick! So help me I will walk right out that door if -"

"Amanda," Kendall raised her voice to talk over her. "I didn't fire him. I told him to take more time off. He didn't take it well."

Amanda stood with her hands on her hips. "I know Jonathan may not be one hundred percent yet, but he can do the paperwork. He's going stir crazy sitting at home."

"If it was just his physical health I wouldn't be so worried, but it's more than that according to Ryan."

"He's doing a lot better," Amanda didn't sound convincing, even to herself.

"Ryan thinks, and I happen to agree, that it might be best if Jonathan wasn't around the place where his sister was murdered about this time last year. He doesn't need any more to stress his system out."

Amanda let her arms drop to the side. "You may be right, but I think maybe we should let Jonathan decide what he can or cannot handle."

"That didn't work too well the last time." Kendall let her skepticism show through.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"After Erin was murdered he was a bit of a loose cannon, wouldn't you say? He went off on random customers."

"And how exactly, may I ask, would you react?"

"I don't know," Kendall admitted. "But I sure wouldn't hang around the place to find out."

"You and I both know that isn't true. Who came into work the very next day after both Simone and Erin," Amanda called her on her misdirection.

"Yeah, but I'm not Jonathan."

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The dry leaves crunched underfoot as they scattered in the blustery fall wind. Emma bounded up the steps, balancing her package precariously.

"Be careful, sweetie!"

"What made you decide to start baking," Ryan teased.

"I didn't want to show up empty handed."

Ryan gave her a knowing smile and entered the foyer. "Happy Thanksgiving everyone!"

His greeting was returned warmly. Ryan scanned the room looking at all the familiar faces, but there was only one that he was concerned with. He hadn't seen much of his brother since that day in the restaurant. He didn't know which one was avoiding the other, but in the end it didn't matter. All he cared about was his brother's well being.

Finally, his brother emerged carrying a tray of assorted snacks. As he passed the fireplace, a large knot of wood gave a loud pop eliciting a flinch from Jonathan. Ryan was pretty sure he was the only one who had seen.

Jonathan's mouth turned up at the corners, but the smile did not quite reach his eyes as he caught sight of his brother. He set the tray on an empty table and crossed the room. "Ryan."

Ryan was mildly surprised when his brother embraced him. "Hockett," he began.

"Don't. It's done," Jonathan assured him, pulling back.

Ryan knew better than to pursue it any further. Jonathan was quick to anger, but usually didn't hold a grudge. "Happy Thanksgiving, man."

"Same to you." Jonathan took a deep breath and broke out of the awkward moment. "Do you guys want something to drink? Word on the street is I can mix up a mean -"

"No, thanks. We just came from Kendall's"

"Oh, right. How was Thanksgiving with Spike?"

"Well, besides having more mashed potatoes wind up in his hair than in his mouth, it was pretty good."

"I hope you guys saved some room. Julia was pretty excited about hosting the dinner this year."

"I promise I will fall into a food coma by the time I'm done." Ryan silently chided himself for the imagery he used. It wasn't that long ago Jonathan was nearly comatose. If Jonathan heard, it didn't seem to phase him.

Amanda let out a loud yelp from the vicinity of the kitchen. Jonathan chuckled. "I think that's my cue. I promised I'd help."

As soon as Jonathan disappeared around the corner, Annie sauntered over to her husband. "He looks...better."

"Yeah," was his monosyllabic reply.

"He's got more color and he looks like he's gained a little weight," Annie offered.

"It's the layers." Annie looked puzzled so Ryan explained. "It's an old trick both of us used. To hide the bruises, the swelling, the cuts. If you wore a couple layers of clothes other people couldn't see the bandages. I suppose it works for weight loss too."

"How do you know that's what he's doing?"

"Because I taught him that trick."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to MissyJade and Liza for reviewing. I really appreciate all the kind words :D And I apologize to all the JR fans. He comes off very obnoxious, but it seemed to fit with the story. And on with part 3..._

Amanda sauntered into the living room, flicking the gray dish soap off her hands. She patted them on her jeans trying to get the slimy feel of cold, food-laden dishwater off of her skin. "Yuck!"

"They do have a dishwasher here you know." Jonathan couldn't help but laugh at the expression of disgust on her face.

"Not for the big pots and pans they don't. And I suppose you think this is funny." Jonathan's wide grin was all she needed in response.

Amanda came after him, hands outstretched. Jonathan tried to move out of her path, but couldn't get off the couch in time before she pounced on him. She playfully wiped her hands on his shirt. "Okay, okay! I give."

"That's right you give. That's what you get for not helping me with the dishes."

"Hey, I tried to help you earlier. But that stuffing was beyond help."

Amanda feigned hurt from her position atop Jonathan, but it was short-lived. "Okay, I'll admit...it was a little well done."

"A little," Jonathan teased. "You could have broken a window with that."

Amanda playfully jabbed him in the ribs. "Oh, you are so dead."

Jonathan let out a short laugh. "I am, am I?"

Amanda went in for another shot, but her hand bearing her weight slipped and her face wound up inches from his. She could feel his warm breath on her skin, sending a pleasant electric tingling across the nape of her neck and journeying down her spine. Feelings that she thought she had long since buried, bubbled to the surface.

Their eyes locked as Amanda brought her face closer to Jonathan's. The heat was unbearable. He reached in and gently brushed her lips with his. Amanda returned the kiss hungrily, sinking down into it. He cupped her face, never breaking the kiss.

Her long chestnut hair fell down and Jonathan lovingly stroked it back as they parted slightly. Their lips met once again, but Jonathan pulled back a little. "Amanda..."

Amanda put a finger to his lips to silence him. "Let's not talk. Let's not think about it." She rained kisses down his chest beginning to crumble his resolve.

"I don't want to hurt you again."

"And I don't want to hurt you. Do you care about me?"

"Yes," he whispered into her ear. "I care about you very much."

"Then you won't hurt me." She could read the hesitation in his eyes. "I want this. I want you."

"I want you too."

Their bodies surrendered to the intense desire, causing their breath to come in short, quick gasps. Amanda slowly unbuttoned his shirt as Jonathan slid his hands down her bare shoulders. She shivered in anticipation at the touch - his touch. She arched into him as he reached up to meet her.

Their lovemaking was a frenzied tangle of arms and legs, leaving them breathless on the floor. Amanda gathered the blanket closer around her. Despite the heat from the fireplace, she felt chilled without Jonathan's warmth.

He gave her a small smile. She entwined her fingers with his. "That was..."

"Yeah," he exhaled. His failure to elaborate sent a blip of concern across Amanda's radar.

"Are you okay?"

He shifted his weight until he was facing her. He traced the line of her jaw with his index finger. "Yeah, I'm great." His smile widened. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty darn good," she smiled slyly, running her hand up and down his arm.

He kissed her shoulder tenderly, working his way up to her neck and then reaching her mouth. Amanda savored the taste of Jonathan's lips on hers. She pulled back, breathless once again. "If we're going to go further, maybe we should take this upstairs."

Amanda glanced out the window at the first gray streaks of light. Holiday or not, the house would be waking in a couple hours. Jonathan turned his head, seeing the breaking dawn also. She raised a good point, he admitted to himself.

Jonathan got up quietly, gathering the sheet around him. He offered her his hand as he led them up the stairs. Everything about this night had felt right, but in the back if his mind he couldn't help wondering what he had gotten himself into. But more importantly - what had he gotten Amanda into?

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Amanda had fallen asleep in Jonathan's arms as the clattering of dishes began to ring out from below. Jonathan had fallen asleep shortly before that, but she had lain awake a bit longer enjoying the closeness as she listened to his steady heartbeat and watched the even rise and fall of his chest.

She held onto to him trying to wipe the images of over a month ago out of her head. They flashed like lightning through her mind. It had terrified her even thinking about the possibility of losing him. She had denied her feelings for too long, and she was determined to not let that happen again.

Amanda contemplated all this as she drifted off. It was a blissfully restful sleep, mostly dreamless until she heard faint whimpering that she fuzzily connected to her old dog Harold. It wasn't uncommon for her to dream of him from time to time. Usually, those dreams included her dad, too. Those dreams were bittersweet.

The soft cries took on a more human nature. Amanda realized it wasn't coming from her dream but the man that lay next to her. She studied Jonathan's face in the gloom, half-hidden by the pillow and an arm that seemed to lie at a protective angle. His brow was furrowed and his mouth scrunched up so that he looked to be in pain.

Amanda's hand wavered in mid-air, unsure whether to wake him or not. She watched, hand frozen above his shoulder, the cries continuing but not worsening. She settled on stroking the side of his face, trying to smooth out the lines that darkened his otherwise handsome features. He nestled his head into her hand, appearing to relax in his sleep.

Amanda sighed. Although she had slept with Jonathan before she had never actually spent the night with him. She couldn't help but wonder if this was a common occurrence or just the stress of the past few weeks showing itself. There was no telling with Jonathan. The ghosts that haunted him weren't the kind that only showed themselves in the dark of night.

She kept a watchful eye on him the rest of the morning, the incidence never repeating itself. And when he finally awoke, he appeared to have no memory of the event. Amanda didn't mention it, intending to keep it to herself for the time-being. There was no sense worrying both herself and Jonathan over an isolated incidence. Right?

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The lights twinkled and danced on the trees outside the department store. The wind whipped fiercely until the snowflakes were flung sideways, biting into their cheeks. Their breath plumed in front of them, disappearing as they stepped into the warmth.

"Remind me why I let you drag me out in this weather," Amanda shivered, shaking the snow from her hair.

"Don't be a Grinch. It's Christmastime." Jonathan stuffed his gloves into the pockets of his leather jacket and brought his hands to his mouth to warm them up.

"I'd rather be sipping hot chocolate by the fire with you."

"That is very tempting." Jonathan pulled Amanda into him. "But...I need to buy gifts for Spike and Emma first. Spike is easy, but I really need your input when it comes to Emma. I'm not really up on what's cool for four year old girls."

"What about this girl? Any idea what she might want?"

Jonathan appeared to give it some thought. "Well, that depends. Have you been naughty or nice?"

"Very, very naughty." Amanda's lips met his.

"Oh, isn't this nice? The booty call and the psycho boy."

The snide remark could only have come from one person. Amanda pulled back from Jonathan and glared in the direction of the disruption. "Back off, JR."

JR gave her his best smile. "No, really. I've heard charity begins at home. Tis the season for giving and all that."

"You got something to say, Junior? Say it to me. Leave Amanda out of this." Jonathan took a step towards him. True to form, JR took a half step back.

"Some things never change. You're still a psycho freak, Jonny boy."

"And you're still an asshole."

"I thought you gave up on this place after I had you thrown out for impersonating Santa. Ya know, a normal person?"

Jonathan voice lowered to just above a whisper. "I'm not into ruining Christmas like some people."

"No, that was your old man's job wasn't it?" JR grinned, internally pleased with the reaction it elicited from Jonathan.

"That's enough! You just crossed a major line, JR," Amanda warned, stepping in between the two men.

Jonathan gently pulled Amanda back. "Don't. It's not worth it." His shoulders slumped, as if weighed down by the painful memories.

JR chuckled and feigned concern. "Are you feeling a little homesick, Jonny? I could give you a couple bruises - really make it feel like Christmas for you."

"You're a jerk!" Jonathan's head snapped up in time to see Amanda give JR a powerful shove that sent him toppling back into a display. The Christmas tree teetered for a moment before coming to rest at his feet.

Jonathan stood transfixed by the fallen tree. It was a scene he was all too familiar with.

"_Look what you made me do," Patrick sneered at him._

_Jonathan stood dumbfounded at the ravaged tree. The wrapping paper was ripped and torn on most of the presents in the meager pile. He knew they were only for Erin, but it still made him sad. His lower lip quivered._

"_Here come the waterworks. Look at the little crybaby." Patrick grabbed him roughly by the arm and shoved him in front of the dirty, cracked mirror. "Look at him!"_

_Jonathan stared back at his image. Every time he tried to avert his eyes, Patrick shook him until he turned his head frontwards._

"_You make me sick. Clean up this mess you caused."_

_Jonathan kneeled down amidst the destruction and began fingering the broken ornaments. He winced as he caught the sharp edge of one with his finger._

"_Hurry up! You're as slow as you are dumb."_

_Jonathan was at a point where the words didn't hurt anymore. He was just...numb. He grabbed a trash bag and scooped the mess up as best he could. When his dad went to go grab another beer he snuck out the back with the trash._

_He dumped it in the trash quickly, wishing he had thought to put on his coat. He tried the knob. It wouldn't budge. He tried again, but it was more than stuck. It was locked! Jonathan watched Patrick cruelly laughing at him as he tried to work the lock._

"_Please let me in, daddy. It's cold and starting to snow. I'll be good, I promise. I'll do better. I'm sorry." Jonathan spoke words he didn't believe, desperate to be back in the warmth._

"_You want something to cry about? I'll give you something to cry about.. Stay out there and think about how you ruined Christmas for all of us again." With that said, Patrick turned off the lights in the kitchen and headed upstairs, leaving Jonathan to shiver in the dark._ _He sat down on the steps and drew his knees up to his chest to keep warm._

_He didn't know how much time had passed - hours maybe - before he heard a light tapping on the glass._ _Jonathan looked up to see Erin's face staring back at him. The locked clicked and the door opened, spilling out the hot air._

_Erin pulled him inside and wrapped him in her arms trying to warm him up. "I'm so sorry, Jonathan. I'm going to take care of you, okay?"_

_Erin led him up the stairs and covered him with blankets, patiently putting them back around his shoulders when the incessant shaking threw them off. She knelt down in front of him and took his ice cold hands in hers. "None of this is your fault. No, look at me. This is not your fault!"_

"It's all my fault." Jonathan was unaware he was speaking out loud.

"No way! This is all JR's fault!" Amanda was steamed and paced to burn off energy.

"What?" Jonathan looked up, suddenly realizing JR was long gone and they were now back outside. He shook his head to bring himself fully into the present..

"I'm sorry. I'm ranting and raving. Are you okay?"

Jonathan nodded imperceptibly. "I missed what you were saying though."

Amanda studied him. "Where did you go?"

"Nowhere." A place you don't want to know, Jonathan finished in his head.

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"Hockett, are you sure you're up to this? I mean, we could wait..."

"No, Ryan. I want - no, I need to do this," Jonathan insisted as he traced the outline of an old photograph.

Ryan crossed the sparsely furnished room and sat on the bed next to his brother. It sagged under his weight. He looked around at the various knickknacks and trinkets scattered throughout. The room had sat largely untouched for the last year, partly at Jonathan's urging, and partly because Ryan knew he could not do it alone.

He waited patiently for Jonathan to be ready to go through Erin's things. It was difficult to pass the closed door on a daily basis, knowing what lay behind it, but Ryan would have given Jonathan eternity if that's what he needed.

Jonathan let out a shaky breath and knelt on the floor in front of the closet. He began sifting through clothes, sorting them out. "I suppose...I suppose most of these should go to Goodwill." Jonathan's voice was flat, revealing no emotion.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever you think."

Ryan knew his brother was starting with the least personal items, trying to build up the courage to go through the letters and photographs and memorabilia collected during a lifetime. He waited and watched, there to offer support when needed.

A penny dropped to the floor from an old shoe. "She was still doing the penny thing?"

Ryan chuckled softly. "Apparently, she was."

Jonathan merely nodded as if he had possessed that knowledge all along. He continued pulling clothes off of hangers and out of drawers with Ryan's help, until the job was complete nearly an hour later.

"How 'bout we take a break? Get a cup of coffee," Ryan suggested, taking back his position on the bed.

Jonathan shook his head. "No, thank you. If we stop now..." He left the sentence unfinished, but Ryan gathered the meaning nevertheless. If Jonathan didn't see this through to the end, it would never get done. He could not draw the pain out any longer. This was the last time his brother would be stepping into this room.

There were several boxes stacked up in the corner of the closet. Jonathan dragged them out in one fluid motion. He hunkered down and lifted the lid off the first box. The majority of the space was filled with Fusion documents and mementos of her time spent with Aidan. He put it aside and went for the next box. He brushed the dust off and lifted the lid. Jonathan fingered the material on top reverently.

"What is that?" Ryan broke the silence, his curiosity getting the better of him..

Jonathan's head jerked up. Lost in the past, he had almost forgotten Ryan's presence. "It's, um... it's a quilt. Erin made it." He hesitated, not sure how much of the memory he wanted to give voice to. Ryan remained silent, allowing his brother to collect his thoughts.

"She got the idea to make it for me the Christmas after Dad locked me out of the house." Jonathan continued. "I was so cold. I couldn't get warm. Erin, she tried, but I - I just couldn't... I think I was out there damn near all night. Erin, she - she spent weeks collecting scraps - teaching herself to sew. "

"That's when she learned?" Ryan revealed his surprise.

"Yeah. It was her gift to me. I had to keep it hidden - kept it under the bed. You know Dad would've destroyed it if he found it." The words came out in a rush now. He seemed to be talking not to Ryan, but to himself. "After the beatings, I would crawl under the bed, wrap up in it like a shield. Erin would always find me, take care of me, bring me food."

Jonathan passed the quilt to Ryan who studied the pattern with interest. It was hard to tell if some of the brown stains were chocolate or old blood, but if he had been a betting man he would have went with the latter.

Jonathan reached into the box again and withdrew a bundle of letters. He inhaled sharply. "Oh my God. These are the letters I wrote her when I went away to Princeton. I can't believe she kept them."

"It doesn't surprise me at all." Ryan left his post on the bed and squatted down on the floor next to Jonathan. "She adored you, Jonathan."

Jonathan wore a look of confused hurt. "She never answered them, Ryan. Until now, I wasn't even sure she had gotten them."

"Maybe she was trying to give you a clean break. Maybe she figured you didn't want to be reminded of the place that took you 18 years to leave."

"I don't know. I guess I never will." He stated this as a fact, no trace of grief in his voice. He opened a few and skimmed them, tossing them aside in horror.

"What is it, Hockett?" Ryan forced his voice to remain steady despite Jonathan's disturbing reaction.

"No wonder she never responded. They're so full of hate. I just - I wrote them before I was - before I dropped out." Jonathan struggled visibly with his emotions.

Ryan plucked a couple pages from the floor. He couldn't help but let his eyes wonder over the disjointed scribbling.

Jonathan reached to take the pages back, but he lacked the energy for purposeful movement. "Burn them, Ryan." He rocked back and forth on his heels, the beginning of his decline uncomfortably exposed in black and white. "No one needs to see that shit - ever again!"

Ryan scooted around until he was directly in front of Jonathan. He held the letters fanned out in his hand, beside his face. "These," he shook the letters for emphasis, "are not you. All this was the direct result of the tumor."

Jonathan gave a slight shake of his head. "No. No, it wasn't."

"You were suffering delusions and hallucinations brought on by the tumor. And the medication that was shoved down your throat didn't help. I saw what the anti-psychotics did to Greenlee - and to you." Ryan tried to hold his brother's attention, but Jonathan's head dropped in shame at the mention of one of his past transgressions. Ryan stooped down into his line of sight until he forced Jonathan to look at him again. "None of it was your fault."

"But the feelings - the sentiments were very real. All the anger, the hate, the self-loathing - was all me."

"And you had every right to feel those things. I've felt them too. Growing up in that Hellhole was like living in this void where nothing good could get in."

Jonathan darted up suddenly and drew his fists to his forehead. He seemed to explode on Ryan, his eyes blazing wildly. "You don't get it do you? Do you have any idea how scary it is to realize that all the bad things that people thought about you - you thought about yourself - are absolutely true?"

"Hockett, what are you talking about? No one - no one thinks badly of you."

Ryan took a step towards Jonathan, growing more concerned with each passing moment. His brother would never have been described as laid-back, but his newfound frenzied state was more than a little disconcerting. But as quickly as it came, it went. Jonathan sunk down onto the bed, deflated. His eyes searched the corners of the room, avoiding Ryan's. "Dad was right. I'm nothing but a disappointment. One big disappointment."

Ryan knelt down in front of Jonathan and held the back of his neck with a firm hand. "Don't ever, EVER think that."

"It's true." Jonathan continued before Ryan could contradict him. "I've let everyone down. You. Lily. Erin. God, Ryan - Erin. If I would have been there -"

"Stop! Just stop!" Jonathan recoiled as if slapped. Ryan softened his tone. "Do you have any idea how proud I am of you? How many obstacles you've overcome to get where you are?" Jonathan tried to move off the bed, but Ryan gently restrained him with a hand on the shoulder. "You are courageous and strong and good-hearted. I know if I ever need anything, I can depend on you. My brother's got my back. Look around this messed up town. Not many people can say that."

Ryan's lame attempt to lighten the mood with his last statement fell on deaf ears. Jonathan's eyes welled up, magnifying their blueness. He struggled for control of his voice. "Erin depended on me too. And look where it got her."

"Hockett," Ryan sighed sadly. "It was Zach's father that did that. You are not responsible. Please stop carrying the blame. Erin wouldn't want that."

Jonathan bit his lip and sniffed, still trying to fight back the tears. Ryan stood and crossed the room. He pulled an object from under the mattress and carried it over to his brother. Jonathan looked at him questioningly. "It's Erin's diary. If I can't convince you what a good guy you really are, maybe Erin can."

Ryan held it out to him, but it took a moment for him to accept it. He ran his fingers over the cracked binding. "This is private Ryan-"

"Erin would want you to have it."

"I - I don't know... I'm not sure..."

"Take it, Hockett. Take all the time you need. And when you're ready, it's there."

"Okay."

Ryan pulled Jonathan into an embrace. "If you ever need anything, even if it's just someone to talk to, I'm here. I love you, Hockett. I hope you know that."

As Ryan continued to hold onto his little brother, he felt a slight nod against his shoulder. Ryan wasn't naive. He knew his words alone wouldn't be enough to pull Jonathan away from the abyss, but he prayed it would give him something to anchor him when the darkness closed in.


	4. Chapter 4

I wasn't sure if anyone was interested in me continuing this, but I had part 4 mostly written already...

_His footsteps pounded the hard-packed earth, twigs snapping underneath each stride. The branches swatted at his face, stinging, but when he raised his hand up to his cheek, it did not come back sticky with blood as expected._ _His breaths came in quick, rhythmic pants as his eyes searched for the path that would lead him away from his pursuer._

_A final swing of a branch, and he burst into a clearing. He paused to listen, hearing nothing but his own raspy respirations. He swung his head back and forth rapidly, taking a glance over his shoulder. The feeling of being hunted wasn't entirely gone, but for the moment he was safe - until he turned around._

"_Oh God, no," he whispered hoarsely. The rocks jutted unmercifully out of the ground, the entrance to the cave worn by the elements._ _Voices streamed out of the opening. He wanted to run the other way, but he was powerless to stop his body from crossing the threshold._

_He stood dumbstruck at a scene that had played out over two years before. He watched his brother pull the trigger, shooting him pointblank in the gut. The Jonathan of before slid down the wall as Ryan knelt beside him, pleading with him not to let go, begging him not to depress the button on the detonator._

"_No! Make it stop!" Jonathan scrunched his eyes shut willing the scene to disappear. He steeled himself for the explosion, but it never came. He opened one eye slowly, and then the other. The cave was dark and empty. Only the smell of cordite lingered._

_Macabre laughter echoed off the walls. Jonathan's heart jack-hammered in his chest as a shadow approached._ _Jonathan shook his head against the recognition, denying what he knew he could not be true. He inched backwards until he was into a deep crevice of the cave._

"_Now, is that any way to greet your brother?" Braden's corpse emerged from the shadows._

"_You're not real. This isn't real. You're dead." Jonathan held up a hand to ward him off, his eyes widening in terror._

"_I'm dead because of you, you little sonofabitch." Braden lurched forward, closing the gap between him and his younger brother. The stench of decay grew overwhelming. Jonathan shrunk further into the corner, trapped. Hands encircled his throat cutting off his scream and his airway simultaneously._

_Braden's rage radiated down his arms as Jonathan felt his head being slammed into the rocks over and over and over. Loose stones fell in a shower around him. The shower became a downpour, mercifully freeing the hands from his throat. _

_The relief was short-lived as a large rock weighted his chest down with a muted thump. He tried to move his arms but they were pinned down by the onslaught of cascading stones. He gulped for air, his lungs filling with the dusty debris as the rocks continued to pile on him..._

"Del! For God's sake get off of him! You're going to hurt him! Let him go," Amanda yelled at him, trying to get him to release Jonathan's arms.

Jonathan continued thrashing around in the bed, not back to full consciousness. "If I let him go, he'll hurt himself, " Del gritted through clinched teeth. Del struggled to keep Jonathan's arms from flailing, his muscles straining against his nightshirt. Even in sleep, Jonathan demonstrated tremendous strength.

Lights flipped on in the hallway announcing the awakening of the other tenants of Wildwind. Di, Aidan, and Jamie poured into the room, closely followed by Julia. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Get off of him!" Amanda wrapped both her arms around Del's and tugged fruitlessly. Del softened his grip, but did not let go. "Help me, dammit." Amanda directed this at Aidan and Jamie. Jamie stood wide eyed as Aidan took a step forward. Only then did Jamie break his paralysis.

Del let out an involuntary screech as his arms were wrestled behind his back. In that split second, Jonathan's eyes shot open, wide and frightened. All three men witnessed the raw fear that stared not back at them, but through them at the same time. It was a sight that would haunt them for many days to come.

The spell was broken when Jonathan half scrambled, half flew off the bed. He bounced off the wall and landed in a heap on the floor. The six roommates stared in disbelief at their friend cowering in the corner, an arm raised protectively to ward off the last vestiges of the nightmare. A sheen of perspiration covered his face and arms, and caused his blue t-shirt to cling to him.

Julia and Amanda slowly knelt down next to him. "Jonathan," Amanda called softly as not to startle him further. At first he seemed not to hear and Amanda parted her lips to call his name again, but then he gradually lowered his arm. He blinked rapidly several times and looked at her in quiet confusion. Amanda stroked his cheek, feeling the dampness on her fingertips. "It's okay. You're safe," she reassured him.

The fast rise and fall of his chest began to slow as his breaths evened out somewhat. His eyes flew across the room from one object to the next. He began to register his roommates' presence for the first time. He bent both knees to his chest and seemed to draw into himself.

Julia studied Jonathan. He was so pale he was nearly translucent, and his intermittent shivers shook the floor underneath them. She gestured across the room for a blanket. Di obliged. Julia draped it across Jonathan's shoulders. He gripped it tight around himself, but still remained silent.

Julia grew more worried by the minute. Despite the blanket, the shivering became even more violent. His silence unnerved her. "He's in some sort of shock. I think maybe we should take him to the hospital." She spoke to no one in particular.

Jonathan snapped to attention. "No! No hospital," he said sharply. "I'm fine." His wild eyes refused to focus on any one person.

"No offense, mate, but you don't look fine." Aidan stated, concern etched in his voice.

Jonathan nodded fervently. "Really. I'm fine. I'm sorry I scared you. It was just a dream."

"That must've been some dream," Jamie muttered.

Jonathan's cheeks flushed, bringing some color to his pasty complexion. He was awake enough to begin feeling the embarrassment. Julia sensed this. "You know what guys? Maybe he doesn't need an audience right now."

Jamie and Del didn't need to be told twice, but Di had to lead Aidan out of the room. Aidan hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder, but finally allowed Di to guide him out the door.

Jonathan squirmed under the weight of the remaining friends' stares. He still wasn't sure what had exactly happened, the dream evaporating in the light like dew exposed to the early morning sun. He cleared his throat and attempted to put them at ease. "I'm sorry I woke everybody up. I'm fine. Really."

Amanda reached beneath the blanket and rubbed a soothing hand up and down his arm. "Don't worry about it. What was it, Jonathan? What had you so spooked?"

He inhaled sharply. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the fading images. His eyes met hers. He tried a smile. "Whatever it was is gone. I don't remember."

Amanda was wary. She stole a sidelong glance at Julia trying to share her suspicions. Julia caught her gaze, but turned her attention back onto Jonathan. "Why don't we get you off the floor and get you something hot to drink? You're still shaking."

Jonathan allowed himself to be helped up onto a nearby chair. "Thank you. I'm sorry," he called again after her retreating form.

Amanda sat on the ottoman facing Jonathan. "Now that it's just the two of us, will you tell me what's going on? What was it?"

Jonathan twisted the fringe of the blanket around his fingers, unwilling to meet her eyes. Amanda clasped his hands in hers and patiently waited until he made eye contact. "You can talk to me - tell me what it was."

"It was nothing."

"Nothing? Julia was ready to throw you in the car and take you to PVH like ten minutes ago. Whatever it is, you don't have to be afraid to talk to me. Nothing you say can scare me off."

Jonathan's eyes grew distant. Whether he was mulling over her words or slipping back into the past, Amanda couldn't tell. The silence stretched out as she awaited a response. Just as she was about to give up, pain clouded his clear, blue eyes and revealed all she needed to know.

The sadness welled inside her as she struggled to find a way to help him. If only he would let her. Amanda had been there at some of the lowest points in his life. She had shared his grief when Erin died, she had shared his despair when his marriage dissolved, she knew about his dark past, she even shared his bed, but this - this he kept locked away from her.

He looked at her longingly. Part of him ached with the need to rid himself of all the memories and dreams that had poisoned his thoughts for nearly thirty years. But he was skeptical that if he opened that Pandora's box, that it could ever be closed again. So he chose to remain silent.

Jonathan gazed into her eyes and saw her hurt and concern reflected back at him. "I can't. I just can't," he muttered in way of an apology.So Amanda offered him the only solace he would allow her to give. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on.

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"Amanda, you don't look so hot," Babe observed.

"Good morning to you, too," Amanda snapped.

"Whoa. I didn't mean to offend you. Forget I said anything." Babe draped her coat over her chair and shut her purse tightly in her desk drawer. She made her way over to the coffee pot and poured herself a generous cup. "Coffee," she offered Amanda.

Amanda scrunched up her nose in disgust. "Ugh. No. I don't think my stomach can take it this morning."

"Are you sick?"

"I don't think so. I think it's because I haven't been sleeping very well lately."

"Any reason in particular?"

Amanda paused. The reason became glaringly clear to everyone she lived with, but she didn't feel comfortable divulging it to Babe. Somehow she felt she would be violating Jonathan. "No," she simply said.

Babe looked at her hard and long, but decided to let the matter drop for the time being. "We should probably get to work."

"Where is everybody?"

As if on cue the elevator doors slid open and Di, Annie, and Kendall spilled out. Annie and Kendall busied themselves putting away their coats, but Di lagged behind and sidled up beside Amanda. "How's Jonathan this morning?" She talked low so as not to be overheard.

"I'm not sure," she answered as honestly as she could. She had seen him this morning, but his mood swung back and worth like a pendulum. It was hard to pinpoint at any given time. She blamed his worsening mood swings on the upcoming Christmas holiday and the nearness of the anniversary of his sister's death. Her emotions were all over the map too, but unlike Jonathan, she had no explanation.

Di snapped her out of her thoughts. "If either of you need anything, we're all here for you." She gave her shoulder a supportive squeeze.

Amanda wanted to voice her thanks but a wave of nausea overtook her. She ran to the bathroom with only seconds to spare. She leaned back against the door of the stall. She prayed she was sick because the alternative was too scary to think about.

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The knock was so soft at first that Ryan thought he had imagined it. Not until the rapping repeated itself did Ryan move towards the front door. "Jonathan..."

Jonathan muttered a half-hearted greeting, leaning against the doorway and seeming vaguely uncomfortable. He twisted the papers in his hand until his knuckles whitened. Ryan guided him inside.

"Not that I'm not glad to see you, but what brings you here?"

Jonathan glanced down at the papers, consciously acknowledging their presence for the first time. "I was just looking over these reports -"

"It's Friday night."

"Yeah. So?"

"Sooo...relax. Enjoy the weekend. Technically I'm your boss, and as your boss I'm telling you to stop working and have fun. Do you want a beer or something?"

"No. No, thank you. I just had some ideas-"

Ryan leaned against the sofa. "And I'm sure they're brilliant ideas, but it can keep until Monday." He took in his brother's crestfallen demeanor and reconsidered his immediate dismissive response as he came around to sit on the sofa. He edged forward, elbows balanced on his knees. "Okay, what are your ideas?"

Coming from someone else it might have sounded patronizing, but Jonathan knew that wasn't the case with Ryan. Placating maybe, patronizing...never. The reports were only a thin-veiled excuse to come see his brother anyhow. "You know what? You're right. It can wait until Monday."

"You're sure?" Jonathan gave him a half smile to show there were no hurt feelings. "Okay. Hey listen...Annie and Emma and I were going to put up the tree, have some hot cocoa, the whole thing. You interested?"

Jonathan misinterpreted Ryan's abrupt change of subject as obliviousness. In fact, it was just the opposite. Ryan had intuited the unspoken need that emanated from his brother quite clearly. In his mind, that was exactly what Jonathan needed - a normal family ritual that had been lacking in their lives for so long.

Despite the track record, Jonathan had remained an endless well of optimism at the holidays. He was crushed at every Christmas tree destroyed or gift not given with each passing year. Ryan had witnessed it firsthand. But finally, even his hope had been stolen from him, leaving him hollow and empty, and that was the most painful thing of all. Ryan wanted nothing more to reinstill that faith in Jonathan.

Jonathan had yet to respond. "Well," Ryan prompted. "It should be fun."

He shook his head slowly. "I'm supposed to meet up with Amanda. In fact," he feigned a glance at his watch, "I'm running behind. But thanks for the offer."

"Uh huh."

"Another time?" Jonathan wanted to mean those words, but deep down he knew he didn't. He couldn't bear another year yearning for happiness, having it dangled in front of him just out of reach, only have it snatched away before it was realized. How many times could a heart be shattered and the pieces picked up before there was nothing left to put back together?

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Amanda turned the stick over in her hand. It was her third attempt, but the results remained the same. "No, no, no. This can't be happening. Not now." She sunk down on the lid of the toilet and buried her head in her hands.

When Di walked through the door, Amanda was unaware of her presence until she spoke. "Are you - I mean, is it... Are you pregnant?"

Amanda made a noise that was a half-sob and part groan. "This can't be happening, "she repeated.

Di sat down on the edge of the tub across from her, and laid a hand on her knee. "Maybe it isn't such a terrible thing."

"How can you say that? There couldn't be a worse time. I'm not particularly the motherly type, and this might just send Jonathan right over the edge." Amanda clamped her mouth shut, but it was too late. The information had slipped out, albeit it was no real secret that they had been together on more than one occasion.

To her credit, Di didn't even try to pretend surprise. She phrased her next words carefully. "Does he have any idea?"

Amanda shook her head. "I couldn't tell him until I was absolutely sure. I still don't know if I can."

"Amanda, you have to! He deserves to know."

"Maybe not. I haven't even decided what I want to do yet. I haven't exactly had a lot of time to think things over"

"How can you say that? It's his baby, too," Di got indignant.

"Don't lecture me, especially after you kept it from Aidan that you might be pregnant," Amanda fired back.

Di bit her tongue. "You're right and our relationship took a hit because of it. So how do you think Jonathan's going to feel if you keep this from him?"

"And how do you think he's going to feel when he finds out he's going to be a father," Amanda countered. "He's going through some serious stuff right now - you saw some of it the other morning. The last thing he needs is something else to deal with."

"Jonathan may not be as fragile as he appears to be. It might turn out to be the best thing for him."

"Or the worst."

Di got up to leave. "Just think about it," were her parting words.

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Ryan poured a cup of coffee as he watched his wife stumble sleepily down the stairs. He grinned inwardly at her early morning clumsiness. "Coffee," he offered.

She wrapped her arms around him. "God, yes. Mmmm, thank God for Jonathan or you'd never have had coffee again."

"Yeah, my brother is a lifesaver." He turned Annie around to face him, inhaling the faint scent of lavender as he buried his face in her hair. The chirruping of the phone interrupted their moment of marital bliss.

"Who the hell would be calling this early," Ryan wondered. He snatched the phone off its stand, glancing at the calling ID. "Hello."

"Ryan, it's Amanda. Is Jonathan still with you?"

Ryan's brow creased with the beginnings of worry. "No. No, he left last evening. He told me he had plans with you." He paced over to the window. "You haven't seen him?"

"Not since yesterday morning. I was hoping you might know where he is." Amanda hesitated. "I don't think he came home last night."

The alarm bells started going off in Ryan's head. "Are you sure?"

"His bed hasn't been slept in. This place is a ghost town."

"Is his car there?"

"Nope." The sigh was audible through the phone line. "I'm getting a little worried."

"Me too. I'll swing by work and see if he's there. He did seem to have work on the brain last night."

"Thanks, Ryan. I'll do some searching, too. Let me know if you find him."

Ryan disconnected the call on the landline, and immediately picked up his cell and dialed as he threw on his jacket.

"What's wrong," Annie frowned.

"Jonathan's gone missing," he explained simply before rushing out the door. "C'mon, pick up... Tad, it's Ryan. I may need your help."

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Tad sauntered into Ryan's office wearing his trademark look of bemusement. "What's up, Ryan?"

"Jonathan's MIA."

"When's the last time you saw or heard from him?"

"Last night, but he's nowhere to be found today."

Tad chuckled. "A nearly thirty year old man doesn't come home? Maybe he had a little...you know." Tad made a suggestive face.

"My brother wouldn't do that."

"Jonathan's not a monk, alright? Maybe he had a little fun. More fun than we're having that's for sure," he muttered under his breath.

"That's not what I meant. He's...with Amanda, and she said he didn't come home last night. She hasn't seen him, either."

"So he's not at home and not here? Where else do you think he might go?"

Ryan drummed his fingers on the desk nervously. "I'm not sure. Jonathan's been all over the map lately. He's going through a rough time," Ryan admitted.

"Great. The last time your brother went through a 'rough time', people got hurt," Tad said sarcastically. Ryan shot him a dirty look. "Sorry. Cheap shot. But you got to give me a little something to work with here."

"The last time I found him at Erin's grave. I was going to swing by there if he wasn't at work."

"Great. That's a good place to start. Let's go."

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Amanda clicked the phone shut. Ryan and Tad were coming up as empty as she was. At first, she wanted to find Jonathan to talk to him. She had decided Di was right, and although dreading it, she knew it was a conversation she had to have. Now her focus had shifted. She just wanted to find Jonathan and make sure he was alright.

Jonathan wasn't at The Comeback, and the offices at ConFusion proved just as deserted. As long as she was here, she figured she might as well search Fusion. She waited impatiently for the elevator, letting out a sigh when it finally came to rest on the ground floor.

The ding signaling her arrival was nearly drowned out by Kendall's cries. "What the hell is this? What am I supposed to do with these?"

"Kendall, calm do-"

"And you," she turned her wrath on Amanda. "We're having a major crisis here. Nice of you to join us."

"Don't mind her. She's been on the warpath all morning." Annie lowered her voice. "Any sign of Jonathan?"

"No." Amanda tried not to let the worry show through, but it emanated from her like heat off a stove.

"Ryan and Tad are looking, too. I'm sure he'll turn up." Annie was trying to be reassuring, but her words sounded empty, even to her.

"Why is it so frigging cold in here?" Kendall sought the source of the draft and found it. "The door to the roof's open."

Alarm bells rang as Annie tangibly tightened against her. Amanda pushed past her and Kendall frantically. She stumbled a few times, but caught herself as she scrambled up the stairs. She burst through the door. Snowflakes swirled in tornadic patterns as the wind whipped her hair around her face obscuring her vision.

The wind died down allowing Jonathan to come into view. Amanda's breath hitched in her throat, stolen in part by the frigid wind and partly by her friend's location. Jonathan perched on the ledge, one leg dangling precariously over the edge.

He either hadn't heard her or was pretending not to. His eyes remained downcast to the street below, an odd longing simmering in them. At last his attention was diverted and his eyes met Amanda's. He held her gaze for a moment, one that seemed to stretch out like filaments of taffy. Amanda stood rooted in her spot as if her feet were weighed down by the same substance. The wind remained the only lonely sound as it caused his thin jacket to billow around him and pushed his hair forward in haphazard tufts.

Jonathan broke eye contact and bent his other knee up, gripping the edge as his gaze shifted downward. His knuckles whitened as his fingers tightened around the cold stone. He rocked back and forth, his arms the only thing steadying him. He drew in a deep breath as if on the verge of saying something, but he bit it back. All that came out was a strangled sigh as he leaned too far forward. It was then that Amanda broke free of the paralyzing fear that gripped her. She let out a piercing scream.


	5. Chapter 5

Amanda felt the scream rip from her throat. Jonathan teetered on the edge perilously as his arms windmilled, trying to propel himself backwards. Whether he had second thoughts or was trying to correct a fateful slip was inconsequential. Amanda rushed forward, the spot she had just vacated now occupied by a breathless Kendall.

Both her arms were outstretched as she raced forward. She was only vaguely aware of Kendall calling out Ryan's name over and over like a curious mantra. Her hand brushed the material of his coat, but it slipped through her fingers as Jonathan gained enough momentum to fling himself over the lip of the ledge.

Jonathan's head struck the edge full force, stunning him momentarily on his descent. He lay flat on the rooftop panting heavily. Amanda collapsed beside him, releasing tears of relief. He pushed himself up on shaky arms, leaning against the wall for support. He brushed the grit from his face as Amanda scooted closer to him.

"Jonathan..."

He rolled his eyes toward her, but his body remained motionless. His lungs burned as he gulped hungrily for air. Amanda waited until he regained some of his composure before addressing him again. "Are you okay?"

A short, humorless laugh was his only response. He hung his head, seemingly lost in thought while worrying an imaginary thread on his pantleg. He tilted his head sideways at her. "I don't know."

The raw honesty of his response surprised her. The undercurrents of emotions the held him hostage were usually kept hidden behind a thinly veiled curtain, his soulful eyes the only revelation to his innermost turmoil. Those wounded eyes bore into her now, sending daggers of sorrow coursing through her heart.

"What were you doing up here," she asked gently. Her eye was caught by a growing pool of red collecting on his hand. He ignored it, so she did, too.

"Thinking." He paused in reflection. "I seem to be doing a lot of that lately," he added almost as an afterthought.

"What about?"

"Nothing. Everything," was his enigmatic reply.

Amanda waited patiently for him to continue, laying a protective hand over her stomach instinctively. The pregnancy was forced to the recesses of her mind, forgotten in the wake of present events.

Jonathan lifted his eyes skyward as if searching for an answer. He closed them against the waning sunlight, basking in what little warmth it offered. He lowered his face and turned towards her suddenly and sharply. The deep gash in his forehead glistened with fresh blood. "Do you ever-" His words died on his lips as he sunk back against the wall once again.

Her hand left her stomach and found its way to his arm. He jerked away from the contact unconsciously. Amanda did not take offense at a reaction that was so ingrained in him, it was second nature. Jonathan looked at her apologetically nonetheless.

"I don't know why I do that." He sighed. "That's not entirely true," he whispered more to himself. "I just wish I could stop. I'm so sick of it all."

That last statement caused her stomach to grow sour. She had wanted to believe that the slip was just that - a slip, but now she wasn't so sure. Her concern grew exponentially. There was no time left to confirm or deny her suspicions. Jonathan's attention was diverted somewhere beyond her. She followed his line of sight to that of his older brother, towering above them both.

"Hockett...My God, Hockett." Ryan knelt down in front of his younger brother gingerly. He grasped Jonathan's hands in his own, noticing the drying blood, but not drawing attention to it. "What happened?"

Jonathan's eyes rose to meet Ryan's. His mouth split into a sad smile that he wore much too often. His mouth began to form the words, but no sound came out. He shook his head instead, a trail of blood running into his eye, causing an immediate stinging sensation. He swiped at it almost angrily, seeming to realize he was bleeding for the first time.

Ryan dug in his pockets and withdrew a handkerchief. He pressed it firmly against the side of his brother's head. Jonathan winced at the pressure, but did not draw back.

"What happened, Hockett," Ryan repeated softly.

Jonathan was silent for so long that Ryan contemplated repeating himself yet again. But he restrained himself, knowing that Jonathan was forming his answer. As it turned out, he didn't need to say anything. He followed his brother's gaze over his shoulder and knew at that moment what was running through his mind.

"I miss her, too." A full year had passed - one long year. And the healing for Jonathan had yet to begin. As hard as it was for Ryan - if he was the one that had found his sister...Jonathan had lost his sister and best friend in one heart-breaking moment. And it nearly destroyed him. It was eating him up inside, devouring the very essence of his life right before their eyes, as if Jonathan's life was the one taken and not Erin's. Ryan couldn't explain it, but Jonathan always seemed to feel things more deeply and fully than the rest of the world. It made the scars all that much deeper.

Ryan loved his brother more than he could ever put into words. He cradled Jon's head in the crook of his arm as he continued to hold pressure against the head wound. Jonathan's chest hitched as he drew in shaky breaths. "We need to get you to the hospital."

"No. I'll be okay, Ryan." His voice was small and far away.

"Hockett, you have to."

"No," he protested weakly. "Really, I'm fine."

Ryan recognized Jonathan's words of denial as the defense mechanism that they were. But his first concern was to get him off the roof and to stop the bleeding that stubbornly refused to cease. "That cut's pretty deep. You're going to need stitches."

Relieved that Ryan was concentrating on the physical instead of the mental aspects of the damage inflicted, he reluctantly agreed. He struggled to stand, limp with exhaustion until Ryan's strong grip eased him to his feet.

Amanda studied the exchange between the two brothers. She admired - and envied - their deep bond. Ryan threw her a furtive glance, loaded with meaning. She understood. Jonathan needed a quiet and inconspicuous exit. She implored the ladies of Fusion to oblige, deflecting questions she couldn't answer.

She watched from around the corner as Ryan led Jonathan through the offices of Fusion. Jonathan's eyes never left the ground, but Ryan's found hers. He mouthed a silent "thank you" before the elevator doors slid home.

"I hate being me."

It was a such simplistic, yet direct statement that it took Ryan by surprise. There was no need to ask what his brother meant by this. Some people strolled through the plateaus of life, and other like himself seemed to climb an uphill slope, punctuated by peaks and valleys. But there were the misfortunate few like Jonathan that seemed to have to fight up their Mt. Everest on a daily basis. A tragic figure like that of Sisyphus struggling to push the rock up the mountain, backsliding all the way.

"Does it ever end?" It was a rhetorical question, or at least, one that Ryan did not have a response to. "I want it to end."

Ryan took in all of Jonathan: his wounded expression, his legs dangling over the edge of the examination table like a little boy's, the way he hugged himself, his hands clutching at the material of the hospital gown as if he might fall apart if he let go. "Hockett, you're scaring me."

Jonathan's eyes pierced his. The gaze was so intense that he literally felt the heat that radiated from them. "Sometimes I scare myself." He averted his eyes, feeling the shame and embarrassment of his confession welling up inside of him.

"What happened up on that roof?"

"It's over. It's done."

"Yeah, it could've been done forever." Ryan forced his brother to focus back on him. "Is that what you had in mind?"

"What? No! No," Jonathan protested, his face twisting into a scowl. "Did you think -" Jonathan eyes widened in recognition. "I am not - I am NOT trying to off myself, if that's what you're thinking."

Ryan shrugged. "I don't know what to think. You've been in a very dark place lately and I'm worried for you. I have no idea how to help you."

Jonathan set his jaw firmly, working the muscles ardently. "I'll be fine."

"Jon..."

"Really, Ryan-"

"Bullshit!" Ryan's sharp tone caused Jonathan to snap to attention. "I don't know how to help you," Ryan repeated softly. "All I know is that I love you and it rips my heart out to see you like this."

"Ryan," Jonathan's voice took on a pleading quality, "you have spent a large part of your life taking care of me. I've told you before, you don't have to fight my battles for me. It's time for me to fight my own battles."

"What if this is a battle you can't win on your own, Hockett?"

The question did not have a chance to be answered. Julia entered carrying an armload of supplies. "We have got to stop meeting like this, Jonathan."

Julia's attempt at cutting the palpable tension was obvious. Ryan took the opportunity to make a hasty exit. "I'll let Julia do her thing. I'll be back."

Ryan nearly collided with Dr. Martin. "Ryan, I was just coming to see you." Joe led Ryan away from the door with a fatherly hand on his arm. "Did Jonathan tell you what really happened?"

"Not exactly." Ryan kept one eye on the window, becoming absorbed in the image before him as Julia irrigated the wound. He flashed back to the not-so-distant past as his brother lay on another hospital bed, in a similar pose, as Ryan stood over him trying to figure out how to tell him about the brain tumor. The memory was so vivid he was momentarily transported back there. This time there was a different malady affecting his brother - one that was elusive and not so easily extracted.

"Was it intentional? Do you think he's a danger to himself?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Without concrete proof, I can't legally keep him here. But being his next of kin, if you even suspect - well, we could keep him here for 72 hours for evaluation."

"I can't do that. He would freak!" Ryan shook his head adamantly. "No. No, he'd be worse off than he already is." The fragility of Jonathan in that moment became so apparent that Ryan felt his brother should have a 'handle with care' sign on him. Jonathan would shatter like a piece of glass if held too tightly. Whether it was right or not, the decision was made. An idea suddenly came to mind. "Could you keep him overnight?"

Dr. Martin pondered this for a moment. "Well, I suppose we could keep him overnight for observation. Given his neurological history, it wouldn't be much of a stretch."

Ryan clapped him on the back. "Thanks, Joe. It'll give me more of a chance to feel him out. See what's going on his head."

Joe merely nodded. "I'll start the paperwork. And then I'll be back to take another look at him."

"Okay. I'll break the news."

Ryan pushed the door open slowly. The doctor was just finishing up the last stitch. Jonathan remained immobile, but his wary gaze pinned Ryan to the spot where he stood. "Hey, Hockett..." The doctor breezed past him without a second glance. Ryan shoved his hands deep into his pockets and attempted a light tone. "How many?"

Jonathan's stare never faltered. "Eighteen," he said evenly.

"Eighteen? Wow! Most I ever got was sixteen." Ryan was stalling, delaying the inevitable. Jonathan's eyes narrowed accusingly, aware that something was amiss.

"So am I free or did your unstable brother get committed?"

Ryan's mouth opened in surprise. His brother's ability to read him was uncanny. "What? No! Nobody's committing you."

"Dammit, Ryan, don't lie to me!"

Ryan hoped he wasn't as transparent as he felt. "I'm not. Nobody's committing you. But, Joe does think it's a good idea if you stay overnight for observation."

"Right...no loss of consciousness, no seizures, no dizziness. Not even a headache. They're not even worried enough to get a scan. But I'm staying for observation." The suspicion in his voice made Ryan wince.

"Well, ya know, last time you hit your head, it was like three weeks before you had a seizure."

Jonathan nodded curtly, effectively ending the conversation. Ryan could see the resignation written all over his brother's face. It was same look he had as a little boy when he realized there was no escaping the belt, the poison sandwiches, the...everything that was their childhood. It was utter defeat and desolation. A capitulation of the spirit.

Ryan let his head drop to hide the tears threatening in the corners of his eyes. He blinked them back and grabbed Jonathan's hand in his own. "I'm staying. Not just tonight. All the way. You are not alone."

Jonathan eyes fixed on the ceiling, by all appearances ignoring Ryan. But Ryan knew this wasn't the case. The internal wrestling match was underway. Ryan couldn't help but wonder which side would win out - the Jonathan that wanted to reach out and move past all the junk, or the one who wanted to give in and be done with it all. Jonathan's very life depended on the outcome. One thing remained constant. "I will not leave you," Ryan said emphatically. "Hold on to that."

Jonathan never lowered his gaze, but the squeeze of his hand that Ryan felt was all the answer he needed.

Amanda stepped tentatively across the threshold. The night before was washed away, dulled by the dawning of the sunlight. Jonathan was propped up in bed, facing away from her. He turned with the creaking of the door, the white bandage standing out prominently under the fluorescent lights.

"Amanda." Jonathan's neutral greeting caused her to hesitate at the end of the bed. He scooted over, lying on his side to make room for her beside him. She took his outstretched hand and eased herself down next to him.

"I wasn't sure if I should come," she confessed timidly.

"Well, I'm glad you did. After yesterday, I wouldn't blame you if you ran screaming in the other direction."

"I did some screaming, but run - never. Not from you."

"You're amazing, you know that? I don't know why you're still here."

"Because I care about you." _Because I love you,_ was what she really wanted to say, but she didn't know if he was in a place to return the sentiment. Asking him to would be unfair at this moment, but it would still hurt not to hear it returned.

"You deserve better than me. I treated you so badly." He stroked her hair lovingly, a touch that sent waves of emotion coursing through her. She sat up suddenly, afraid her body would betray her feelings.

"We've been over this. No, you really didn't. You were honest. I admit, that is a new concept given my lousy luck in love."

"C'mon. There were some decent guys in there I'm sure."

She began ticking them off one by one on her fingertips. "Let's see...there was Jamie, but I torched that relationship."

"Really?"

"Yeah, crash and burn all the way. There was Josh...sorta. But now he's so far up Zach and Kendall's ass it's hard to see where he ends and they begin. And JR...Well, JR is just a self absorbed ass."

Jonathan laughed, a concept foreign to him in the recent past. Amanda was grateful to see that side of him, if only for a brief moment. "And then there's me...a screwed-up ass."

"I don't see you that way at all." Amanda brushed an errant lock of hair back from his forehead and lightly traced the edge of the bandage.

"Ha! I seem to remember a time not so long ago in the courthouse that you basically compared me to your mother."

"That didn't come out the way I meant it and you know it." She slapped him lightly on the arm.

"Hmmm...comparing the guy you're dating to your mother. Sounds like a Freudian nightmare." Jonathan's laughter was infectious. She joined in, cherishing the sound.

It was funny the difference twenty-four hours could make. One short day ago the man before her was a completely different person, weighed down by all the pain and hurt of a lifetime. But this Jonathan - this was the Jonathan that was buried deep inside. The one that only a handful of people like herself and Ryan got to see. And one day ago she couldn't even entertain the notion of being a mother. Now she wanted nothing more in the world. And she wanted to share that with Jonathan. She grasped his hand, tracing small circles with her thumb.

Jonathan furrowed his brow. "Why so serious all the sudden? What's on your mind?"

"There's something I need to tell you. I didn't know how to tell you really."

He cocked his head at her. "You can tell me anything. You know that."

"Yeah." Amanda blew out a shaky breath. "The thing is, I'm -"

Ryan burst through the door, nearly spilling the coffee as the door rebounded. "Hey, Hockett!" Amanda swallowed the words she was about to utter. She rose to greet Ryan. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Yes! No!" Amanda and Jonathan said simultaneously.

Ryan fumbled a bit, unsure of what to do. "I could leave. Come back," he offered.

Amanda spoke up first. "No, it's okay. I have to go anyway. We'll talk later," she directed towards Jonathan.

Ryan waited for the door to close completely before he spoke again. "Sorry about that, man. It seemed like a pretty heavy conversation."

"I'm not really sure, but I think it was about to be." Jonathan crossed his arms and chewed on his bottom lip. He was clearly mulling over her words, trying to work out what was weighing on her mind. The dull ache in his head was blossoming into a stabbing pain, so he decided to file it away to try to process later.

"So you'll probably get to go home today?"

Jonathan glared at Ryan and rubbed his head absently. Mild head injury or not, he knew that an overnight stay was unnecessary. And he was positive Ryan had something to do with it. "I guess. If you'll let them let me go."

"Jon, I had nothing to do with it." Ryan hated lying to his brother, but he saw no other alternative. Blurting out the truth would just have upset him more. Jonathan's arms tightened around his midriff, the muscles taut with strain.

"Be real, Ryan. I'm your brother and you're a terrible liar."

Ryan knew there was no sense keeping up the ruse. Jonathan's eery ability to read others would not be denied. He placed his coffee cup on the stand beside the bed. "Okay, Hockett. I'll be honest with you if you'll be honest with me. But you first. What were you really doing up on the roof yesterday?"

"Haven't we already had this conversation?"

Ryan contemplated that for a moment. "Well, I've asked the question, but I don't think I ever got a straight answer."

"Ryan..." his voice cracked, trailing off.

Ryan scooted closer until his face was only inches from his brother's. "Jon, it's just you and me here. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I know." Jonathan worked his jaw, eventually letting out a long and heavy sigh of resignation. "I went up there to - I haven't been up there since..."

Jonathan paused to collect himself. He drew his arms even tighter around himself and let his eyes fill with unshed tears. He blinked them away as soon as they appeared. "I needed to be...I wanted to..."

"Go on, Hockett. You're doing fine," Ryan gently encouraged.

"God, Ryan, I miss her so much. Every single day I wake up and it's like I lose her all over again. I just want all the hurt to stop. It can't go on like this anymore."

Ryan laid a brotherly hand on his shoulder. His voice took on the soft tone that seemed reserved only for Jonathan. "Erin wouldn't want you to keep going like this, either."

"I know that, Ryan. I do. I thought maybe if I went back to the place where she...maybe I'd feel closer to her somehow.

"I took the diary up there with me."

"Did you read it?"

"I couldn't bring myself to. And I almost lost it. It fell out of my pocket. When I went to grab for it, I slipped." Jonathan said this matter-of-factly, as is merely commenting on the weather.

Ryan let this information sink in. "So you weren't trying to..."

Jonathan shook his head fervently. "No. No. No. I just thought if I went up there, forced myself to remember... I don't know, Ryan. I don't know when I became like this. I have to find a way to move on, don't I?"

Ryan's tongue flicked out and moistened his dry lips. "Everybody grieves differently. There is no timetable. No right or wrong." He watched as his brother took deep, shaking breaths. Ryan recognized that he was on the verge of breaking down. A memory so powerful flashed through his mind that it stole his breath for a second. Ryan took Jonathan's hand. "In some ways you were always like this, Hockett."

The puzzlement was written all over Jonathan's face. Ryan pressed on, both his hands now enclosing his little brother's hand. "See, I remember the little boy peeking around the corner as Patrick beat on me, crying. Crying not because he was scared or hurt, but for me, for my pain. You've always done that, Jonathan. You've always internalized not only your own pain, but others', as well." Ryan paused unsure how much to reveal. "That was the only time I ever let the bastard see me shed a tear. I wasn't crying for me, but for that little boy that had such love and compassion in his heart that he couldn't stand the thought of someone else hurting.

"Braden and I, Erin - we all protected you because we all knew somehow that if Dad ever went after you... But he did anyway. I left and Braden left, and Erin was too little, and now - and now you're paying for my failures, my sins."

This time Jonathan couldn't keep the tears from sliding down his cheeks. The pillow made a crisp whisking sound as he shook his head against it. "No. No, Ryan. None of this is your fault."

"And it's not yours, either."

They looked at each other for a long time, both needing to hear those words. Their hands remained entwined, but the connection of the two went beyond the mere physical realm. Ryan felt the lump in his throat grow as he watched his brother trying to compose himself once again.

"What's say we get you dressed and get out of here?"

"Now it's your turn to be honest with me. Did you have something to do with me staying in here?" Jonathan's eyes searched his for the answer he already knew to be true.

Ryan dipped his head and brought it back up. "Yes."

"Why? Did you really think..."

"I didn't know what to think," Ryan admitted.

"Do you believe me now?"

"God, yes. I just - I want you to be safe."

"I know," Jonathan conceded. He threw the covers back and started to rise. He stumbled a bit and Ryan reached out a hand to steady him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little dizzy." Ryan face must have shown his alarm because Jonathan added hurriedly, "I haven't been up in twenty-four hours, Ry. I just got up too fast. Okay?"

"Okay."

Jonathan moved slowly over to the free-standing closet to retrieve his clothes which left Ryan speaking to his back. "Hockett, could you do a favor for me?"

Jonathan froze with his hand on the door handle. He half-turned. "Sure. What?"

"Why don't you come home with me, stay a few days," Ryan suggested tentatively. He watched his brother's shoulders drop. "Annie and Emma are at some mother-daughter mountain retreat over Christmas break. I could use the company."

Jonathan pulled his clothes from the closet and crossed the room. He sat on the bed facing away from Ryan. "Are you sure it's not because you want to keep an eye on me?"

"Maybe a little," Ryan acknowledged. "But, for the next week I am living like a bachelor. It turns out, I'm not that good at solitude."

"Have you ever not been in love," Jonathan ribbed while pulling on his pants. He leaned over to tie his shoes, the hospital gown gaping open, exposing his back. The thin white scars were barely visible, but still present, from when Patrick had graduated from fists to belt buckles.

Ryan was grateful that his brother's back was turned so he didn't see him wince, forgetting that he had been asked a question. Jonathan fought with the tie on the back of the gown unsuccessfully. "Here, let me," Ryan offered. He expertly picked out the knot and the gown dropped to the floor.

Jonathan stood up and turned as he pulled on his shirt. Before it dropped to his waist, Ryan got a glimpse of the angry red pucker of skin where the bullet - the bullet that came from the gun he was holding - had ripped through his stomach, lines extending vertically from it where it was surgically removed. Another oblique, faded scar from the self-inflicted stab wound. His body was a virtual roadmap for a lifetime of suffering, an outward reminder that he could never escape from.

Ryan forced himself to avert his eye before his brother caught him staring. It was only then that he realized Jonathan was talking to him. "I'm sorry. What?"

"I said, you know I was kidding, right," he said bemused.

"Yeah, of course." Ryan shook off the brutal images. "So, have you given any thought to my offer?"

"Okay."

"Okay," Ryan echoed in disbelief. He didn't expect Jonathan to agree so easily.

"Yeah, but only because you want some company. It's _not_ because I need a babysitter. Okay?"

"Okay."

"There's one problem, though."

_ And here it comes_, Ryan thought. "What's that?"

"I don't have any of my stuff."

Ryan sighed in relief. "That's easy to fix. You still have a few things at the penthouse. And I can give Amanda a call and see if she'll drop by what you're missing."

Jonathan seemed satisfied with that solution. "Well, what are we waiting for? Take me to the newfound bachelor pad."

Ryan chuckled. "Alright, Hockett. Let's get you sprung."

"I'll be waiting."

"Don't go anywhere without me."

"I don't plan on it."

_ Neither do I_, Ryan thought to himself.

There was a sharp rapping on the door, followed by a loud thump and cries of various expletives. "Come in! It's open," Jonathan called out.

Amanda struggled through the door balancing two suitcases. "I could have used a little help here."

"I'm sorry," Jonathan said through his amusement. "I wasn't thinking."

"That's right you weren't. But I'll forgive you since you're injured." Her irritated demeanor melted away instantaneously. "Where do you want me to put them?"

"Just leave them there. I would hate to hear what came out of your mouth if I asked you to lug them upstairs."

Amanda let out an exasperated groan. She plopped herself on the coffee table across from the couch.

Jonathan grew serious. "Thank you for doing that. I really appreciate it."

"It was no trouble. I was happy to do it." Jonathan shot her a look. "Alright, I was happy to until I dropped the suitcase on my foot."

Jonathan took her soft, delicate hand in his. "You are wonderful, you know that?"

Amanda smiled somewhat shyly at him. "Yeah, I know."

"Wow, way to be humble," he teased.

"Well, when you're as wonderful as I am, humility is not in the equation." Amanda grew pensive. "So why are you staying with Ryan again?"

Jonathan exhaled noisily. "Well, he claims that with Annie and Emma being gone he's lonely."

"But he wants to look out for you?"

"I guess that's a big brother's prerogative," he shrugged.

"And you're alright with this?" Amanda knew he detested being anything other than self-reliant.

He shrugged again. "I saw it for what it was. And besides, maybe it'll do both of us some good. Except," he said with mild annoyance, "Ryan has made me promise not to get off this couch. So I have been condemned to channel surfing through bad reruns and old movies. Care to join me?" Jonathan waved the remote around enticingly.

"As fun as that sounds, I can't stay." Amanda searched the penthouse with her eyes. "Where is Ryan anyway?"

"Out getting dinner. He cooks about as well as Annie makes coffee. And he won't let me do anything, so..." Jonathan saw Amanda shifting uncomfortably and realized she was only half listening to his attempted witty repartee. He suddenly recalled their earlier unfinished conversation. "You were about to tell me something earlier today. What was it?"

"I'm not sure if this is the right time. You had a pretty rough day yesterday and you're still recovering," she indicated the bandage above his brow.

"Now's as good a time as any." Jonathan studied her. Amanda seemed nervous and on-edge which was completely unlike her. Even under the most grueling of circumstances she was usually cool and collected. It was one of the many things he loved about her. She countered his high-strung tendencies perfectly. "Whatever it is, you can tell me anything."

Amanda hesitated. "I don't know, Jonathan. Maybe it should wait."

He grasped her hands and pulled her closer to him. "Hey, give me the chance to be there for you for a change like you've been there for me so many times." He looked deep into her eyes and she could see the affection in them reflected back at her.

Despite the misgivings she was having, and all the ways the scenario had played out in her mind, she decided to break the news. "Before I tell you, I just want you to know that I don't expect anything from you. You want in on this, then great. If not, I'll completely understand. There is no pressure, okay?"

The knowledge of what she was about to say dawned on him. His eyes widened and his mouth went dry. "Are you-"

"Yes. Jonathan, I'm pregnant."


	6. Chapter 6

Jonathan sat, mouth agape, at Amanda's revelation. The shock drained all the moisture from his mouth. His tongue stuck to his soft palate as he tried to swallow, eliciting a small clicking sound from his throat with the effort. Amanda's lips were moving, but her voice was replaced by the deafening silence roaring in his ears. "What," he managed to eke out.

"I'm pregnant," Amanda repeated, trying to gauge his reaction.

Jonathan nodded, indicating he had heard her. More precisely, he had seen her mouth form the words, her voice stretched out and warped like a record being played in slow motion. The gravity of her words still had yet to completely sink in. Speaking was out of the question as he struggled with comprehension. A thousand thoughts were running through his head, none of them able to take root and form coherently. He knew she would be expecting some kind of response, an action that seemed nearly impossible at the moment. He put on a tight-lipped smile, grasping for the right thing to say.

"Jonathan? Are you okay?" Amanda watched him curiously. He made several false attempts at speaking, his mouth opening and closing giving him a befuddled, fish-like appearance. It would have been sort of cute if not for the fact that she had just dropped a bombshell on him.

The questions finally broke him out of his mental paralysis. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so. Are you okay?"

"Now that I'm used to the idea, I am. Something clearly you are not yet," she tried to laugh it off. It came out stunted and forced.

Jonathan let out his own uncomfortable laugh. "Guilty."

"Well, at least you're honest." Her statement was laced with a bitterness she couldn't keep reigned in.

"Hey, give me a break. I've had all of thirty seconds to get used to the idea. You've had...How long have you known?"

"A couple of weeks."

"A couple of weeks," he echoed.

"More or less."

Jonathan persisted in hiding the hurt he felt at being kept in the dark. "How come you didn't tell me sooner?"

"I wanted to be absolutely sure. I took like three tests before I even believed it. And I didn't know how I felt about it. I couldn't expect to dump it on you without having worked it out for myself first."

"And how do you feel about it?"

"A little weird, but okay I guess. I was freaked at first, though," she confessed.

"Amanda, you should have told me as soon as you found out," he gently admonished. "You shouldn't have had to go it alone. I've told you before, you need to let me be there for you." Jonathan was an expert at commanding eye contact with only one look.

"And is that what you want to do, Jonathan? Be there?" It took all her strength to meet his gaze. She was afraid of what his true feelings really were.

Instead of answering, he pushed himself off the couch and slowly knelt down in front of her. He slid his hand into hers and began balancing on one knee.

Amanda's heart fluttered as she realized what was about to happen. "Jonathan! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"The right thing." He stared up at her earnestly, innocently unaware of the foolishness of his hasty gesture.

Before he could finish, she abruptly cut him off. "But is it for the right reasons?"

"What do you mean?" He was clearly baffled.

"A baby is not enough of a reason to get married. I'm in love with you. Are you in love with me?" Her directness surprised even herself. They had danced around the issue many times, but the circumstances had forced her hand.

"Of course I love you." The conversation was taking a surreal and destructive turn. Jonathan was desperately trying to steer it back into neutral territory, but Amanda was unrelenting.

"That's not what I asked you," she exclaimed. "I asked if you were _in_ love with me." His brief hesitation told her all she needed to know. She sighed sadly. "You are an amazing guy, Jonathan. When you give your heart away, you give it completely and forever. The problem is, the person who has it has no use for it anymore."

The realization dawned on him, slamming into him like a brick wall. "No, dammit, this has nothing to do with Lily!"

"I'm competing with memories. I don't know if I can do this anymore."

"This has nothing to do with Lily - or Ava, for that matter." He was on the verge of pleading. "It has everything to do with me."

Her sadness was quickly being replaced by anger and frustration. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Jonathan sagged down to the floor and drew his knees up to his chest. He began a lazy rocking motion that he was unaware of. "I'm not even sure I'm capable of feeling the love you're describing." He tilted his head up towards the ceiling, exhaling slowly with his admission. Revealing insights into his true self always seemed to cause him to avert his eyes. Whether it was in shame or embarrassment, or something else entirely, Amanda wasn't sure.

Her anger had not diminished, but her curiosity won out. "What do you mean?"

"Up until a couple of years ago, the only love, the only kindness I ever got was from Ryan and Erin. Other than that, there was only anger and bruises and yelling and criticism and..." he trailed off, not needing to fill in the blanks. " How can you get love out of that?" The eyes dropped to meet hers and then stared back up at the ceiling once again.

Amanda shook her head sadly. "I don't know. But you have you figure it out. Not for me, but for yourself - and for this baby."

"I've been trying. I just don't know how." His pained expression threatened to break her heart. As much as she loved him, she could not get married to him if the feeling wasn't reciprocated. And if they both weren't in it for the long haul, then what were they doing? She didn't know how much longer she could be in relationship-limbo with him.

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. "Like I told you in the beginning there is no pressure. When you decide what you really want, what you really want to do, I'll still be here." Amanda kissed him lightly on the cheek and slowly walked out, the door clicking shut softly behind her.

Jonathan stayed crouched on the floor, the waning light cutting patterns on the hard wood floor. The time that passed was irrelevant. He hadn't even noticed that his brother had yet to return with dinner. He sat watching the dust particles dance in the last of the sunlight, needing to think things through, but not really able to think of anything at all. The numbness had set in. He wrapped himself in it like a security blanket.

That was how Ryan found him when he finally arrived home with an armload of food. "Well, I hope you're hungry because they screwed up the order so many times I think they gave me everything on the menu but 'thank you' and 'please come again.' Ryan finished unloading the bags into the kitchen and slipped out of his coat. "You okay, Hockett?"

Jonathan had managed to hoist himself back up on the couch before Ryan fully saw him on the floor. He wanted to avoid any questions he could right now. There were things he had to sort through in his own head before he could subject himself to the inevitable third degree. He put on what he hoped was a convincing poker facer. "Yeah, sure."

"Are you ready to eat? I for one am starving."

Jonathan accepted his plate without commenting. He watched as Ryan half devoured and half inhaled his food. He had always marveled at how much Ryan could eat. A few morsels found their way to his mouth, but most of the food got picked over and pushed around on the plate.

Ryan looked up from his dinner long enough to realize that his brother had hardly touched his. "Are you feeling okay? You really haven't eaten that much."

"No, I'm fine." Jonathan plastered on a small smile to put his brother at ease, a ruse he had perfected over a lifetime. "I'm just a little tired is all. In fact, I think I'm going to turn in early." Jonathan leaned forward and placed his plate on the coffee table and started to rise.

"Aw, man. I rented a movie and everything. But if you're that tired, I guess it can wait."

Jonathan hesitated on the arm of the couch, debating. He could continue on upstairs and be alone to untangle the confused mess in his head, or he could stay and watch the movie and make Ryan happy. He laid back down on the couch, figuring that if they were watching a movie at least Ryan's attention would be focused elsewhere and he wouldn't be the object of any brotherly scrutiny. "No, it's okay. I'll stay."

"Are you sure? I mean, we don't have to..."

"I wouldn't want to see you disappointed. I hate it when you sulk," he said flatly.

"Yeaaaah, it's not pretty," Ryan agreed as he fired up the DVD player and inserted the disc.

Jonathan made an effort to follow the plot, but it was futile. His thoughts circled furiously, wrapping around themselves until they were indistinguishable from one another. His mind eventually surrendered and drifted off, his body soon following.

The darkness enveloped him, swallowing him into its oblivion. He floated on a sea of nothingness, blissfully. But then the dreams invaded - they always did. There was no escaping their wrath.

_Jonathan heard the loud crack, but there was no pain._ _He brought his hand up to his cheek tentatively, the fingers lightly touching the emerging mark. The tingling was beginning to subside giving way to a raw stinging sensation._

"_Close that pathetic trap of yours before I shut it for you," Patrick warned, stepping forward with his hand raised menacingly once again._

_He hadn't even realized that his mouth was hanging open from the shock of the assault. He had been playing quietly in his room, trying desperately to stay out of his father's line of sight, knowing that when he came home from a night out it could only end badly if he didn't hide himself away. So he stayed locked away in the bedroom - his safe haven. But it had ceased to be so tonight._

_His mother, was as usual, by dinnertime, passed out on the couch leaving himself and Erin to fend for themselves. Jonathan had picked up the empty bottles and stashed them in the trash before his father could see them. On these nights when Patrick came home in a drunken haze, without Gail to knock around, he usually sought out Jonathan to "have some fun", as he put it. _

_The headboard now dug uncomfortably into his back. He had pressed himself up against it as far as he could in an attempt to put as much distance between himself and his father. There was nowhere left to run._

_The edges of his vision blurred suddenly as he took a blow to the head. It sent him sprawling off the bed. He got to his knees and scrambled backwards until he hit the wall with a muted thump. He was trapped, cowering in the corner. Patrick advanced on him threateningly, but backed off at the last second. "Aw, you're not worth it."_

_He tried to keep still and hold his breath, but he could not stop the huge sigh of relief that escaped. The noise caused Patrick to turn back around, and Jonathan winced at his mistake. This time there was no reprieve. The smacks rained down over and over, increasing in their force. He squeezed his eyes shut against the blows, praying for it to come to an end, never knowing when it would finally stop._

_Eventually he was able to withdraw into himself. Detachment was the only way to make it through the increasing episodes. He no longer felt the fist on his face. He only felt the rage building in him until he thought it would erupt out of him like molten lava. It was only then that he realized that he was longer on the receiving end. When he opened his eyes he saw a little boy crouched in a corner, the spitting image of him at that age. Jonathan looked up at his hand and stared in horror as he saw it was raised, poised to strike. He gagged on his revulsion, stifling a scream._

Ryan looked over halfway through the movie and was surprised to see Jonathan's eyes closed. The even rise and fall of his brother's chest indicated he was in a deep sleep. "I guess you were really tired, Hockett," Ryan muttered to himself.

The movie briefly captured his attention again. He figured it would disturb Jonathan if he tried to coax him upstairs to his old room so he let him sleep. Ryan was content to recline in the chair, keeping one eye on the end of the movie and one eye on his brother.

As the closing credits were rolling, Jonathan's breathing took on a more urgent pace and a small moan escaped his lips. Ryan turned off the movie and studied his brother in the blue glow of the television screen. His brow was furrowed. He twitched once, and then fell still. Backlit by the blue light, it gave him the illusion of an otherworldly appearance.

Ryan took a step forward, mired in indecision by Jonathan's unrest. He watched as his brother tossed his head from side to side as if an invisible hand were pushing him. He had no idea how accurate that thought really was. Jonathan thrashed, throwing the covers off as he cried out suddenly, breaking Ryan's indecisiveness. He rushed over to the couch, kneeling beside his brother. "Jon. Jonathan, wake up!" He shook his shoulder, being rougher than he intended to.

Jonathan awoke with a start, scrambling backwards as he had in the dream until the couch cushions groaned in protest at the pressure he exerted on them. He took in his surroundings, unsure of where he was at first. For a moment the only noise that punctuated the silence was Jonathan's heavy breathing. He made a sound low in his throat as he struggled to gain control. Ryan stepped into his view and his body relaxed, realizing where he was. He was in the Penthouse. It all came rushing back, the images of the dream still lingering just beneath the surface of his consciousness.

Ryan felt the unmistakable trembling beneath his fingertips. "Jon, you're shaking."

Instead of denying it, Jonathan said simply, "It'll pass."

"This has happened before." It was a statement, not a question.

Jonathan sighed and nodded reluctantly.

"That must have been some dream." When Jonathan did not respond, Ryan pressed him. "What was it that's got you so spooked?"

"Just a bad dream." Jonathan did not elaborate, looking at everything in the Penthouse except Ryan.

"Yeah, I can see that. Want to talk about it?"

"No," he replied tersely

"Okay." Ryan rubbed his hand across the top of his head, at a loss of how to proceed. If he grilled him too hard, Jonathan would dig in his heels and shut down completely. But given the last few months, he couldn't ignore it, either. "Let me rephrase that - maybe you should talk about it. Has it been - has it been happening a lot?"

"It's nothing new." Jonathan didn't directly answer his question, but his reply was telling nonetheless.

"So, you obviously don't want to talk to me. Maybe...maybe talking to someone else would help?" Ryan knew he was treading on dangerous ground with his suggestion, but there seemed no way around it.

"Like a shrink," Jonathan spat out. His eyes narrowed and bore into Ryan accusingly.

"I don't know. I don't know what I'm trying to say, Hockett. But you won't talk to me..."

"It's not like it helped the last few times," Jonathan challenged, crossing his arms against his chest in a defensive pose.

"Those were different circumstances. You were misdiagnosed. You needed a medical doctor, not a therapist, but -"

"But now you're not so sure," he finished. "Great, my brother thinks I'm going off the deep end - again."

"No. No I don't, but at this point I'd say worried is an understatement."

"Stop worrying about me. I'm fine," Jonathan deadpanned. Those two words were so ingrained in his vernacular it was an automatic response. Ryan had lost count at how many times those words had passed his brother's lips.

"Jesus, Jon! No you're not! Are you even listening to yourself? You wake up terrified, in a cold sweat - not the first time apparently. You barely eat." Jonathan hung his head and hugged himself, as if making himself smaller and less visible could keep him out from under Ryan's microscopic view. "Yeah, I noticed. You nearly took a dive off the Fusion rooftop yesterday. Hell, a couple months ago you stopped taking your medication and landed yourself in the hospital. You have got to stop punishing yourself."

"I am not punishing myself." His words were clipped and angry, but they lacked any real conviction.

Jonathan started to rise, but Ryan prevented him from doing so by placing his hands on his shoulders. "Yes, you are, Hockett. Yes, you are. Erin's dead and there is nothing, NOTHING you could have done to save her. I wish like hell either one of us could have, but we couldn't. Nothing we did or didn't do could have changed it."

"Stop. Stop it, Ryan!" He tried to turn his head away, twisting away from Ryan's grasp, but his brother held firm.

"You beat yourself up all the time for things you have no control over. It has to stop. It has to stop now. The past is over. It's done. You have to stop reliving it."

"You think it's that easy," Jonathan exclaimed, his voice rising an octave with each syllable.

"No, I know it's not, but Dad's dead, Hockett. Dad's dead. Dad's been dead for years and you're still taking the beatings." Jonathan jerked and whipped his head around, and it clicked into place for Ryan what his brother had been dreaming about. He sucked in air sharply as a new light was shed on the situation. "That's what it was, wasn't it?"

"Don't," Jonathan protested, but the fight had gone out of him.

"I have to, Hockett. I have to." Ryan cupped the back of Jonathan's neck with his hand, a loving gesture he had used many times over the years. "Those aren't just dreams, are they? They're nightmares - nightmares you lived once. Nightmares you're still living."

Jonathan's face contorted in pain. His lower lip quivered slightly. Ryan pulled him closer and wrapped his arms protectively around his little brother. "It's over, Hockett. It's over," he whispered.

Ryan felt his shirt dampening as the tears were absorbed. The movement was barely perceptible as Jonathan shook his head against Ryan's chest."For you, maybe." Jonathan pulled away, but kept his head down, unable to look Ryan in the eye. "Not for me. It's never over for me. I still see it in my dreams... when I'm awake. It doesn't - it never ends."

"How," Ryan swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, "can I help you make it end?"

Jonathan swung his head slowly from side to side and then tipped his chin towards the ceiling, his eyes brimming. "You can't," his voice was thick. "This is something I have to figure out for myself. I've practically spent my whole life trying to figure out how. And I'm not sure I ever will."

"You will, Hockett. You will." Ryan reached out and drew his brother back into a hug. He kissed him on the top of the head, something that he hadn't done since his brother was little, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. He felt a familiar tightening in his chest. When he brushed his hand against his cheek, he was surprised when it came back moist with his own tears.

They stayed in that position for so long that Ryan thought Jonathan had fallen back to sleep until his muffled voice reached Ryan's ears. "You're such a good father. How - how did you manage that? You know, given the way we grew up?"

Ryan was so taken aback by the random question that he didn't know how to answer him at first. So he countered with his own question. "What made you think of that?"

Jonathan leaned back against the arm of the couch and tried to appear nonchalant. "No reason. Just wondering."

"Uh-huh." Ryan was suspicious, but he couldn't put his finger on why exactly. "I didn't think I would be at first. You know the whole story with the vasectomy and all, and what I did to Greenlee. In fact, I was downright petrified. I spent so much of my energy trying _not_ to become a father, and putting an end to the Lavery line that if I would have put that energy into being a better person..."

"So what made you change your mind?"

"Well, when Spike came along - and then Emma - that made it easy. You can't believe how much you can just fall in love with your kids."

"But before Spike was born," Jonathan prompted.

"It was you." Ryan did not miss the doubt that flashed through his brother's eyes. He looked at him long and hard, willing Jonathan to believe him. " I told you the truth about that. Everything we went through in Nova Scotia, it made me see that just because we came from evil doesn't mean we're destined to repeat that evil. Our problems don't have to be genetic or handed down. We have a choice."

"No. No, it wasn't me," Jonathan argued. Each of his words were punctuated by a shake of his head. "It was all you. You saved _my_ life - not the other way around."

"What you saved was much more important. You saved my soul - my future, Hockett. You gave me back my life."

"And you gave me back mine."

"So I guess we're even." Ryan's newly lightened tone was contradictory to Jonathan's somber mood. "Hey, what else is on your mind?"

"I just hope I make the right choices - like you."

"I didn't always make the right choices." Ryan admitted, but he couldn't keep the puzzlement out of his voice. "Hockett, what are you talking about? Forgive me, but I'm a little lost here."

"Me too, Ryan. Me too" Jonathan opened and closed his mouth several times, unsure of how to go on. "I'm just trying to figure some things out is all."

"I guess it wouldn't do any good to ask you what, would it?"

"No." Jonathan's voice was so soft that he all but mouthed the words.

He rose from his position on the couch, and this time Ryan did not try to stop him. When he reached the staircase he turned and addressed his brother. "Thanks, Ryan. Don't worry, okay? Really. I'll be fine"

Ryan watched his brother ascend the steps until he disappeared around the corner. He reached back and grabbed a bottle of water off the table. Instead of opening it, he twisted the cap around and around, trying to work out in his mind what Jonathan could have meant.

He was troubled at how easily Jonathan transitioned from virtually one emotional extreme to the next in such a short period of time. Ryan saw through his thin reassurances. The newfound knowledge of the nightmares was worrisome enough, but the emotional lability that followed compounded his concern. As bad as the anguish was to witness, the eery calm that followed was somehow worse.

He was terrified that it would all come to a disastrous climax in the very near future. And if that happened he knew he couldn't live with himself, but at the same time he felt powerless against the invisible enemy that was plaguing his brother.

The demons within himself had been wrestled with and conquered. And Jonathan was right - no one could do it for him. It was a road he had to go alone. Ryan had come out the other side, scarred and drained, but whole. Jonathan, on the other hand, seemed to break through to the light only to be yanked back again and again, beaten down by some unseen force. Each time he got sucked back into the darkness, the Jonathan that reemerged was a shadow of what was, his spirit more worn and eroded by the neverending struggle. Soon there would be nothing left to save. It was this slow death that Ryan could not bear to witness.

Jonathan had unknowingly been the key to Ryan's redemption - a miracle that he had been shown when on the brink of self-destruction. He had no delusions that he could reciprocate the favor to his brother. Jonathan had to find his own talisman that would be his salvation. Ryan prayed he would find it before it was too late.

All Ryan could do was stand by and watch. A man of action, the forced inertia was barely tolerable. He picked at the label on the water bottle, listening to Jonathan's rhythmic footsteps above lulling him into a restless sleep.

Jonathan's agitation swelled until he thought it would burst out of him. He paused listlessly at the window, searching the night sky. Pale streaks of grey were beginning to paint the horizon, signaling the daybreak.

He had stayed up the rest of the night, not daring to lay his head down for fear of falling back asleep and being revisited by the bad dreams. There was hardly a night that went by without succumbing to one, a result of him stuffing the past down, trying to compact it into his subconscious. But now they were spilling out, invading his waking mind, disturbing everyone he came into contact with.

So he walked the floors of his old room hour after hour. Over to the window, back past the bed and on to closet, and then the pattern started again. It didn't take him long to remember which floorboards gave under his weight. He sidestepped them expertly to avoid waking Ryan.

Ryan. The guilt threatened to overwhelm him as he closed his eyes against the memory of his brother's frightened expression. He had hoped and prayed that the dreams would leave him temporarily while staying with Ryan. He shouldn't have been so naive - there was never a reprieve. The dreams had only increased in frequency and intensity. And because of that his brother had unwittingly discovered the secret he had been painstakingly trying to hide.

The way Ryan looked at him with a mixture of love and sorrow and concern twisted his insides until they physically hurt. Ryan should not be condemned to be his brother's keeper for the rest of his life, but that was the role he had assumed. And in his vulnerability he had accepted his role of the helpless little brother. But it was time for him to be responsible for himself. He had a child on the way. And Amanda...

Wincing, he called up the expression on Amanda's face after one of his episodes. He knew he had scared her badly. Her light touch was infused with tremors of fear, matching the rhythm of his own trembling. No matter what he said to her, he could not convince her of his well-being.

Her once smooth features were now deepened with worry lines - worry lines he knew he was to blame for. Amanda deserved better than that. She deserved a man that was not weighed down by the baggage of his past, a man yet unmarred by the tragedies that life had brought him. And his child deserved better than that.

He had waited his whole life for a happy family filled with love and not disdain, laughter and not curses. It's what he yearned for and strived for, what he had been searching for his entire life. He had had it for the briefest of moments only to have the rug cruelly ripped out from under him, and now it was within his reach once again. And he was determined to do whatever it took to not let it slip through his fingers. He had almost lost Amanda once. Never again could he let that go without fighting for it. The only question was how.

Ryan was right about one thing. They both had a choice, and he was choosing to fight. He wouldn't succumb to ghosts of the past. He wouldn't give in this time. He would find a way - or die trying.

The week had passed slowly for both of them. Neither brother was avoiding the other, but since that night they merely co-existed. Conversation stayed superficial, neither one willing to directly address what was hanging over their heads. Jonathan could see the worry in Ryan's stolen glances despite his efforts to put on a cheery facade, and it made him uncomfortable.

Jonathan had kept up his end of the bargain, staying with Ryan the entire week. But the restlessness he exhibited was almost palpable. His bags were already packed and in the closet by the front door. He hadn't specifically told Ryan he was leaving when Annie and Emma returned, but it was understood.

The only sound this morning was the scraping of fork tines against the ceramic plates. Neither brother spoke, keeping the events of last week locked away. To Ryan's credit, he hadn't asked if Jonathan was okay, knowing what the answer would invariably be.

There was nothing left to say. Small talk was pointless and would be forced. Jonathan didn't quite understand why he hadn't told Ryan about the pregnancy, but for the moment he knew it was something he needed to keep private. It was something he had to work out for himself.

The entrance of Emma and Annie provided a welcome distraction. Ryan rose to greet his wife and help her with the bags as Emma ran over and jumped on Jonathan's lap. "Uncle Jon," she exclaimed. Her smile lit up the room as she tightly clasped her hands behind his neck.

"Hi, Emmabear!" Jonathan wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin atop her head. He closed his eyes and felt his heart lift a little holding her. Ryan had turned in time to see the reflection of Jon's face in the glass door. Lost in the moment, it was the most peaceful he had seen him in quite some time. The picture was bittersweet.

Emma pulled back from the hug and looked him over curiously. It took her a minute to see what was different. She put a finger on the freshly applied steri-strips, put there in lieu of the stitches only yesterday. "You've got a boo-boo."

"Yeah, I do."

"Does it hurt?"

"No, not anymore."

She knelt on his lap and kissed his forehead. "There. All better," she giggled.

"Aw, thank you. It's so much better now!" He gave her a tight squeeze before she hopped down.

Annie took her hand. "C'mon, Princess Emma. Let's get this stuff upstairs and get you washed up."

Ryan stepped forward. "No, it's alright. I got her. Why don't you relax?"

Annie watched Ryan and Emma until they were out of sight. "It's hard to argue with that." She plopped down on the couch. "So what happened? Are you really okay?"

Jonathan let out a nervous laugh. "I fell. Other than feeling stupid, I'm fine. Really."

"Uh-huh." She looked at him warily, but decided to let the matter drop. "Emma really wore me out. I think I'm going to go take a long, hot bath and take a nap."

"That sounds like a great idea." Ryan had startled them both having slipped down the steps noiselessly.

Annie jumped up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as she passed by. Ryan grinned at her like a lovesick school boy, watching her as she climbed the stairs. Ryan shifted his attention to Jonathan who had a strange look on his face - one of almost longing. "You know, you can have that too, Hockett."

Jonathan's eyes widened and he looked like the kid that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Wh -? I have to go," he said abruptly.

"Is it something I said?"

"No. I just have a lot of errands to run"

"Hockett, why don't you stay-"

"No, Ryan. I can't. I have a lot of things that need to be taken care of." It wasn't exactly a lie, but he wasn't being forthcoming, either. Jonathan took three quick steps to the closet and slung his bag over his shoulder. "I'll get the rest later, okay?"

"Jonathan -" Ryan almost pleaded with him to sit down and stay with him, but he knew it would be futile. Instead he offered a concerned warning. "Be careful." Jonathan only looked at him before rushing out the door. It slammed inadvertently.

Annie came back down at the sound and registered Jonathan's absence. "What was that all about?" When Ryan didn't answer, she tried again. "Where did Jonathan run off to so quickly?"

"I don't know."

"What really happened, Ryan? Is he okay?"

Ryan stared long and hard at the door, lost in his own thoughts, reliving the past couple weeks. "I don't know."

Jonathan drove about aimlessly for quite some time. He had tried to fill up his time with mundane errands like he had told Ryan, but his mind wouldn't rest. He'd stopped at the bank, made a few purchases, but nothing could keep his thoughts from going back to where he did not want them.

The accelerator was pressed almost down to the floorboard. The street signs whizzed by, the words almost a blur. He checked the speedometer and eased up, not wanting to risk being pulled over.

He made a sharp right turn and had to reach over to right the container that had fallen over. The car swerved before he brought it back to the center of the lane, causing the liquid to slosh against the sides in large waves.

"What the hell am I doing," he said aloud.

Briefly, he had second thoughts, but it was too late to turn back. He was committed. He had gone over all the options in his head, and there seemed no other alternative. The only course left was drastic. He had to go back to the beginning to see it through to the end. With renewed purpose, he made a u-turn. He had one more stop to make.

Jackson Montgomery shuffled a few files around and leaned back in his chair, it creaking under his lanky frame. He peered over his reading glasses at the woman sitting across from him trying to make sense of her broken account of the latest scrape she had gotten herself into. It was days like these that he was grateful he had been forced out of the DA position.

His patience was wearing thin, and it took all he had to even lend half an ear. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, digging into them painfully to wake himself up. Groaning inwardly, he tried to get a word in edgewise, but there was no break in her stream of endless babble.

His attention was diverted by loud voices coming from the lobby. "He's in a meeting with a client. You can't go in there!"

The rebuttal was muffled, but his secretary stood her ground. "You need an appointment. Mr. Montgomery is not available."

His interest was piqued for the first time in the midst of all the drudgery. The door flew open, and he was mildly surprised to see the figure standing in the doorway. "Jonathan."

Jonathan's wild eyes held his, and then registered the third person in the room. "Jack, I'm sorry to interrupt."

"Can't this wait?" His stern voice was mostly for show.

"No. No, it can't. I'm sorry." He directed the apology to the woman.

"Well, I think we're just about finished here. I'll draw up the documents and let you review them." His client didn't take the hint at first, but he moved over to the door intending to show her the way out. Reluctantly, she rose and exited the office on her own.

Jonathan took a step in, but remained standing. Jack closed the door, taking in his agitated disposition. "Jonathan, do you mind telling me what this is about?"

Jonathan took a second to collect himself. "I'm sorry to bust in on you like this. I should have called first."

"Actually, I think you did me a favor. You rescued me from certain death from boredom," Jack joked.

His smile left his face as he took note of the man standing in front of him. Jonathan's jaw was clenched and his lips were pursed as if he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. His hands opened and closed in a nervous tic, his nostrils flaring with each harsh exhale.

"Why don't you have a seat and tell me what this is all about?"

"No, thanks." Jonathan looked up to the ceiling and dropped his head back down. The new intensity in his eyes chilled Jack. The last time he had seen that look had been after Erin had died, and he had been blinded with rage, slipping back down the slippery slope into that darkness he had fought so hard to crawl out of. It was one of the reasons Jack had been so adamantly against his relationship with his daughter. That Jonathan had scared the hell out of him and everyone else in town, but what he had learned in his misjudgement was that it scared the hell out of Jonathan, as well.

Jack remained silent, allowing Jonathan to formulate his thoughts and explain his reason for being there. He didn't have to wait long. "Whatever I say in this office will be in confidence, right? Like attorney-client privilege?"

"Jonathan, are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Jack, I need your help."


	7. Chapter 7

"Jack, I need your help."

Caught off guard, Jack froze, his head cocked at an awkward angle. "I'll ask you again. Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Well, I see some impressions never change," Jonathan noted sourly. Jack merely raised his eyebrows at him. "Sorry," Jonathan apologized. "It's nothing like that. I just need some information."

"What kind of information?"

"I need to find out who owns this property." He unfolded a piece of paper and laid it down on the desk.

Jack studied the address. It was vaguely familiar, but locked in the recesses of his mind, unwilling to make itself known. He returned his attention to Jonathan. "Once you find out who owns it - then what?"

Jonathan leaned hard on the desk, his face parallel to Jackson's. "I want to make an offer to buy them out - a business acquisition of sorts."

"Are you planning on moving? Investing?"

Jonathan glanced sideways at him. "You could say it's along the lines of an investment in my future." He was purposefully being evasive, a trick not lost on Jack.

Jack deliberated on whether to fulfill Jonathan's request or not. Eventually, he decided, Jonathan would find out no matter what so best for him to go through the proper legal channels, at least. Jack typed in a few commands, but the computer stubbornly refused to comply. He re-attempted, but that only ended in him slamming the keyboard down, chipping a sliver of oak off the top of the desk.

Jonathan shifted the keyboard closer. "Here let me. Do you mind?"

Jack sat back, flabbergasted at the ease which Jonathan navigated the sites and pulled up the information he was looking for. "I don't believe it! Even in death his name is still on the deed. You'd think the bank would've foreclosed on it or it would have been condemned or something."

"Jonathan, what are you talking about?"

"Just some old business that needs to be taken care of." Jonathan cleared his throat, fearing he had revealed too much. Jack's face remained impassive, but his eyes sharpened slightly, sizing him up.

Jonathan turned back to the computer screen, blocking it from Jack's full view. He pressed the print icon and exited out of the program, turning as if searching for something.

"The printer's over there," Jack pointed out absently. In his head, he was reworking the riddles that Jonathan had brought onto his doorstep. He swivelled in his chair intending to make one more appeal to his former son-in-law, but something stopped him cold.

Jack sniffed and caught a familiar scent. He grabbed Jonathan by the wrist that was reaching to pull the information off the printer, and lifted Jonathan's hand up under his nose. His heart leapt into his throat as he placed the aroma. "Is that gasoline I'm smelling?"

The stricken look was brief, but unmistakable. Jonathan quickly regained his composure. "Yeah. Yeah, it is. I got gas around the corner before I stopped here."

Jack eyed him warily, not quite believing him, but not having anything to directly accuse him of. Jonathan's demeanor had downshifted from agitated to skittish, the unrest given away only by the shifting of his eyes. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Jonathan?"

"No, thank you, Jack. This helps a lot." He tapped the tube of paper against his palm for emphasis.

"Can I give you a piece of advice - as your friend, not your lawyer?" Jonathan's silence connotated his acquiescence. "Don't do anything rash. You're not that person anymore. In fact, you never really were that person."

"Because of the tumor?" His tone was bordering on mockery. "No matter what the reason, I did a lot of bad things. And I can never take them back. Those things-"

"Those things came from a darkness you didn't create." Jack moved a step closer to Jonathan as he spoke. "Remember when I told you I wouldn't let you go back to that dark place again?"

"How can you go back to a place you've never left?"

The question was so innocent and honest that it momentarily took him by surprise. Jack looked at the lost and vulnerable little boy, hidden superficially behind the man. As Jonathan's eyes shone, Jack felt the moisture dampen his own.

He took another step. "Yes, you've done horrible things, but you've done some amazing things, too. You seem to forget that. It took a lot of courage to come back and do what you did. I admire that." Jonathan's eyes widened slightly, but Jack pushed on taking yet another step. "You saved a lot of lives, including my daughter's. I can never repay you for that.

"And in saving Lily, I finally saw what a good man you were. And you are, Jonathan. You have to know that."

As Jack advanced towards him, he inched closer to the door, shaking his head the whole time to negate those statements.

Jonathan's back was pressed up against the door. He looked like a cornered animal, and Jack realized that probably wasn't far from how he felt. He backed off a bit, but maintained the thread of the conversation. "Can I tell you something else before you go?" Jonathan's hand dropped from the doorknob, implicitly telling him to go ahead. "I'm going to tell you something your father never did, but something he should have. You're a good man, Jonathan. I'm so proud of you."

His eyes widened once again in disbelief. The mouth was working, searching for the words, but nothing would come out but a staccato, "I have to go."

Jack tried to close the distance between them one final time, but Jonathan blew out the door without another word. He had disappeared around the corner before Jack even got through the doorway. There was no use chasing him.

He leaned his head against the door. Perhaps he had said too much. But he knew the signs, and Jonathan was headed down a very dark road. He hoped he had given him at least a few bread crumbs to help him find his way back.

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Jonathan had given the hotel clerk cash and a pseudonym. He picked a nondescript place somewhere in Ohio to hole up. Even though Jack didn't exactly know what he was planning to do, he wasn't oblivious that something was amiss. Subtly had never been his forte. So Jonathan thought it best to just lie low for a couple of days.

The few meager belongings he had brought along with him sat by the door, the same place they'd been the day before when he'd first checked in. He hadn't bothered to change, stretching out on the bed and oscillating between channel surfing and dozing.

He grew comfortable in his invisibility. Leaving town had brought a fresh perspective, leaving him questioning his decision. _I should have disappeared months ago_, he thought. But lingering in a self-imposed purgatory was not the answer, either. The skeletons that had rattled against the closet door all these years would not be silenced this time. The time had long since passed for them not only to show themselves, but be incinerated.

The book caught his eye, the tattered and frayed edge sticking out of the side pouch of the backpack. The golden leaflets had long ago lost their luster, but still reflected the light nevertheless. Jonathan mustered his courage and reached out to pluck it out, but the chirruping of his cell phone caused him to draw his hand back as if it had been slapped.

The LCD screen lit up with each ring. Ryan's home number flashed up at him accusingly. He almost didn't answer it, but by ignoring it, he would only draw unwanted attention to himself. "Hi, Ryan."

"Hockett!" There was silence punctuated by light breaths coming over the line as Ryan searched for the right words. "I haven't seen you in a couple of days. Are you doing okay?"

Jonathan's shoulders dropped and he stifled the sigh that wanted to escape. His brother was checking up on him once again. "It's barely been over twenty-four hours." He tried to keep his tone neutral to prevent Ryan's 'big brother' alarm from kicking into overdrive.

"Did you forget about the meeting we had this morning?"

That's why he was calling. Jonathan groaned inwardly. "Shit. Yeah. I totally spaced, man. I'm sorry."

"It's okay-"

"Ryan, I'm really sorry. Okay?"

"It's okay, Hockett. I took care of it. Pretty well, I might add. But are you sure you're okay? It's not like you to flake out on me like that."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted to get away for a few days...clear my head. I should have said something." It wasn't exactly a lie, but what Ryan didn't know right now wouldn't hurt him.

"That's actually a great idea." The relief was evident in his voice. "Take your time. Relax. Enjoy yourself. Just call me when you get back, okay?"

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Take care of yourself."

"I will. You, too."

Jonathan clicked his cell phone shut and tapped it absently on his lips before tossing it on the bed. There was no stalling any longer. He held the diary in his hands reverently for a moment before opening it somewhere in the middle. Although it spanned a number of years, chronological order was unimportant. He scanned the first page he opened to:

_Sometimes I hate Ryan - even more than daddy. God help me it's true. I know he's never coming back, but I could never tell Jonathan that. It's sometimes the only thing he has to hold onto. That false hope gets him through the tougher times - thinking he's going to rescued. But I know it's not true, and deep down I think Jonathan knows it, too. His eyes light up with hope after a beating, wishing for our brother to come back, wishing it was the last time. But it's not. I feel it. And when the light goes out of his eyes, I know deep down Jonathan feels it, too. Hope is the thing with feathers according to Emily Dickinson. It's what sustains us, but it could very well be what destroys Jonathan._

Jonathan could read no more. His sister knew him better than anyone, and she was gone. He could only face the truth, could only feel the pain, in small doses, or he would fall apart completely. The rest would keep. It had kept this long, and he would not let himself be deterred from his ultimate mission.

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Annie slipped her arms around Ryan's waist. "C'mon. It will do you some good. You deserve to relax."

The couple stood outside the doors of Fusion. Ryan had reluctantly agreed to come, but now that they were here he was even less sure that he wanted to go in. "I don't know, you know?"

"You've had a rough week. And I know you're worried, but you need to have some down time," Annie gently persuaded.

"It's just not like Jonathan to go off like that without a word to me. Especially for this long."

"Jonathan's an adult. It's only been a week or so. He doesn't have to tell his big brother every move he makes, does he?"

Annie was still in the dark as to every detail that had happened while on her excursion with Emma. Ryan planned to keep it that way. "No, he doesn't. But he's very reliable and for him to skip out on a meeting like that..."

"Everyone's entitled to a mistake now and then. Even you, my perfect husband." She kissed him squarely on the lips to offset the biting words. "I worry for him, too. I love him as much as you do, but if Jonathan feels like he needs some distance to gain a little perspective, who are we to argue?"

"So in other words, don't call him, let him call me."

"Exactly!"

"Did I ever mention that you are a hard woman to argue with?"

"And don't you forget it," she teased. "You're married now. You don't get to win the fights anymore."

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't in the vows." His words were drowned out when she opened to door. The pulse beat of the music and the fluorescent lights assaulted his senses with the subtly of a mack truck. He felt himself being led by the hand over to a corner table across from the bar.

Ryan glanced around at the exuberant crowd, getting a brief nod from Del behind the bar in greeting. Ryan nodded back. "You know, it wasn't too long ago my brother was here...Forget it. Let's get some drinks."

"You read my mind. But the first round's on me." Annie got up before he could protest.

The bar was crowded, and she squeezed forward expertly. Ryan played absently with the wheat grass centerpiece. He caught snippets of conversation from surrounding tables, but it was the one on the other side of the wall that captured his full attention.

"Amanda, you shouldn't be at the front of the house. You're pregnant. You shouldn't be on your feet so long. Del can handle it."

"Your lunkhead of a brother handle this crowd all by his lonesome? I don't think so. Besides, I'm only three months along. I'll be fine."

"What would Jonathan say if he walked in here right now?" There was a long pause coming from the other side. "You have told him, haven't you?"

"Yeah, I have."

"Well...how did he take it?"

"Better than I expected. He was kinda freaked, but then again so was I at first. He asked me to marry him."

That explained Jonathan's comments on fatherhood, but it was a good thing the drinks hadn't arrived yet because if Ryan had had a mouthful, Annie would have been wearing it at that moment.

"Amanda! That's wonderful! Congratulations!"

"Don't congratulate us yet, Di. I turned him down."

"What? Why? You love him. I've seen you two together and you just...work."

"Yeah, I do. And I know he cares, but he's not ready -even if he thinks he is. He's got to work some stuff out before we can go down that road."

"How'd he take that?"

"Not well, but I could see that he knew I was right. It'll just take time. I told him I'd still be here when all was said and done."

"I'm sorry it turned out this way."

"Don't be sorry. It is what it is. Despite everything's he done and everything he's been through, Jonathan's one of the good guys. I just wish he could see that, too."

"Hopefully, one day he will."

"Me and this baby are counting on it."

The color had drained out of Ryan's face by the time Annie returned with the drinks. All the pieces of the puzzle fell into place - from the conversation they had that first night to Jonathan's sudden flight. Ryan felt the panic choking him as he recalled his reaction to Greenlee's baby news.

"Honey, you're pale. What is it? What's wrong?" Annie shook his arm to garner his attention.

"We have to go." Her puzzled expression registered. "I'll explain later, but right now we have to go."

Ryan didn't wait for her response as he headed straight for the door. He frantically dialed his brother's number. "C'mon, Jon. Pick up. Pick up," he urged. It rang and rang, going to voicemail. "Shit!"

He hit redial and got the same response. His thumb pressed the 'end' button, but he had one more phone call to make before he was done.

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"So what is it, Ryan? What's the big emergency that you had to drag me and Aidan down here practically in the middle of the night?" Tad's irritation was balanced equally with his curiosity.

"Why don't we give him a chance to explain, mate," Aidan spoke up quietly from his seat at the desk.

"Jonathan's missing."

"Here we go again." Tad threw up his hands in exasperation.

"When's the last you saw him or heard from him?"

"Over a week ago. He missed a meeting so I called him. Said he was taking a couple days off."

"So Jonathan's probably on a beach somewhere nursing a hangover. Next to several women sporting dental floss for bikinis if he's lucky," Tad suggested flippantly.

"No. Uh-uh. Not Jonathan's style. That's not what he's doing," Ryan stated with conviction.

"Ryan! He's a red-blooded American male who's been badly in need of some R and R for quite some time. Your big brother gene has been working overtime, okay? Give the guy some credit."

Aidan took note of Ryan's somberness. "There's more to it, isn't there?"

"Amanda's pregnant. He proposed and she turned him down. I overheard Amanda say he did not take it well. Apparently this was some time last week - right before he disappeared."

"And you haven't been able to reach him at all?"

"Not for over a week," Ryan reiterated. "I've tried several times tonight in fact, and it just rings and rings. He won't - or can't - pick it up."

Tad chewed this over thoughtfully. "Okay. The guy gets spurned. Maybe he just wants some alone time."

"Do you remember how I reacted after Greenlee told me she was pregnant?"

"Yeah, but that was pretty situational, dontcha think? You thought at the time you had just killed your brother."

"In part, yes. But the other side of the coin is the thought of fatherhood completely flipped me out given our history. I'm sure you know that feeling, Tad."

It was not meant as a personal affront, and to Tad's credit he took it for what it was. "Point taken."

"Jonathan's been in a bad place lately. If I reacted the way I did, I can't imagine what's going through his head right now."

"Have you talked to Derek? Filed a missing persons report," Tad inquired.

"I don't want the police involved. Not yet." Ryan's unspoken meaning was understood. There was no telling what Jonathan might do. Jonathan had been on the wrong side of the law more than once, and held a deep-seeded mistrust of the police. Involving the cops might just push him into deeper hiding. The desperation was taking hold. "Please help me find my brother. I can't lose him - not again."

Tad's hard exterior finally softened. "Let's start with purchases. Your brother has a credit card, right? Any recent purchases might lead us to him, or at least give us a hint as to what he's been up to."

Aidan pulled himself towards the desk. He powered up the computer and furiously began tapping some keys. "Here we are. Jonathan Lavery. Last purchase...looks like nine days ago. A restaurant." Aidan tapped some more keys. "Before that, a hardware store and a surplus supply outfit. Before that, the hospital bill by the looks of it."

Tad leaned over his shoulder. "What city where the purchases made in?"

"All just outside of Pine Valley, I'm afraid. No indication of where's he at now."

Ryan leaned in over his other shoulder. "Why a hardware and a supply store, I wonder."

"I was hoping you could shed some light on that," Tad said.

"I have no idea."

"Looks like a dead end, mate. I'm sorry."

"Anybody else that might know where he is? Amanda?"

Ryan shook his head. "Amanda doesn't even know he's gone by the sounds of it. For that matter neither does Di. Annie knows as much as I do."

"Anyone that Jonathan would go to if he were in trouble?" Tad was reaching.

"Most of those people we just mentioned, or are in this room." Ryan straightened up suddenly. "Wait a minute. There is one more. It's a longshot, but..."

Ryan whirled around and strode to the door. "Who," Tad demanded to his back.

Ryan turned as he opened the door. "Jackson Montgomery."

"His ex-father-in-law? The one that hated his guts?"

"He got pretty chummy with him after Jonathan saved Lily's life," Aidan pointed out. "I say we check it out."

"I think Ryan's beat us to it," Tad observed wryly. "But let's keep close on his heels, see what turns up."

"Right behind you, mate."

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The pounding on the door separated Jack from the first good night's sleep he'd had in over a week. He grabbed his robe and threw it on angrily, charging down the steps. "Whoever you are, do you have any idea what time it is?" He pulled open the door in disgust and was surprised to see a disgruntled Ryan Lavery on the other side.

"Yeah, Jack, I do."

"Can't this wait until morning?"

"No, it can't." Ryan clasped his hands in front of his face. "May I please come in?" Jack stepped aside to let him in. He started to close the door, but he realized that Ryan was now joined by Tad Martin and Aidan Devane.

"Well, it's a regular party we got going here. Please...come in, and do explain." His voice had not quite lost that irritated edge.

The quartet gathered in the foyer, forming a tight circle. "Well, does someone want to tell me what's going on?"

"Jonathan's missing," Aidan blurted out.

"And we were hoping you might have heard from him." Ryan looked at him expectantly at Tad's statement.

"Not recently, no."

"Not recently," Ryan echoed. "But you have talked to him?"

"Yeah, a couple of weeks ago he came to my office."

"A couple weeks ago? And you've not heard from him since."

"No, I'm sorry," Jack said sympathetically. "I wish I could be of more help."

"Maybe you can. What did he come see you for?"

"He just wanted some information."

"What kind of information, Jack," Ryan pressured.

Jack hesitated, unsure of how much he could reveal. But one look at Ryan's panicked face, and he decided attorney-client privilege be damned. "He was looking for ownership of a piece of property."

"What property?"

"Has Lily heard from him?" The last question came from Aidan, and he thought it far more likely that Jonathan would confide in her than Jack.

Jack crossed the living room and dug in his briefcase. "As far as I know she hasn't."

"Well, could you wake her up and ask her?"

"I'm afraid that's impossible. She's been at MIT for several weeks now. She started with the spring semester." Jack couldn't stop himself from beaming with pride, despite the dire circumstances.

"That's wonderful! I'm so happy for her."

"And I'm sure Jonathan will be, too - when we find him." Ryan's patience was eroded by worry and sleeplessness.

Jack went back to digging through his briefcase, finally retrieving the folder he was looking for. He handed Ryan the copy of the address Jonathan had given him.

Ryan unfolded it and his blood ran cold as he recognized the address. "That's - that's the address of the dry cleaners we used to live above as kids. That's our childhood home."

"What's he doing going back there?" Aidan was more than a bit concerned, and judging from the expression on Ryan's face, so was he.

Jack thought back to when Jonathan was in his office the week before. He had clutched his right wrist, where the gasoline smell had been emanating from. The wheels turned until it finally clicked. Jonathan had lost most of his strength in that hand after the surgery. Gripping a pen was the best that he could do, even years later. He stared at the signature on the old release records. It was shaky and hesitant. There was no way he could have been pumping gas with that hand at the old fashioned pumps around the corner. That could only mean one thing. "Oh my God."

"'Oh my God' what, Jack? What is it?" In his frenzy Ryan had grabbed him by the collar and roughly pulled him forward.

As succinctly as possible, Jack relayed what he had observed. He exhaled loudly after it all came pouring out.

"Why didn't you say something sooner? My brother is in trouble and you keep it to yourself," Ryan spat out angrily. The hot tears were threatening at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't think anything of it at the time. Plus, add in the attorney- client angle and I'm pretty much prevented from saying anything. Had I realized the significance, I would have come straight to you. After what Jonathan did for Lily, I'd do anything for him. You have to know that, Ryan."

Ryan, who had been struggling in Tad and Aidan's grip, relaxed. "Believe it or not, I do. I know Jonathan considers you a friend. And I do now, too."

"So why is he going back to the one place he's been trying to escape his whole life?"

Ryan's mind was in overdrive, the past and the present melding together. The purchases had a sickening and terrible logic to them. "As it was in the beginning, so shall it be in the end," Ryan whispered, his mind returning to the fateful game that had sent him chasing back through the ruins of their childhood. His eyes widened in stomach-churning recognition. "Jonathan's gone back there to finish it - once and for all."

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Jonathan gagged on the nauseating smell of the dry cleaner fluid. Whether it was a conjured olfactory memory or whether it still lingered underneath all the mustiness, it was real to him. His eyes watered profusely and his throat clenched against the meal that was struggling to make a reappearance.

He navigated the rickety steps cautiously. One almost gave under his weight, but he hopped to the next step just in time. At last he had come to the door to the past. It stubbornly refused to give, but after shoving against it with his shoulder a few times, it finally gave a loud groan and popped open.

Walking slowly, he stepped into the center of the room. His eyes closed, listening to the ghosts of his past.

"_You disappointed me again, Jonny. You know what happens when you disappoint me."_

"_Make me another drink, Jonny"_

"_This is NOT your fault, Jonathan."_

"_You'll never amount to anything. You're nothing but one big, stupid disappointment."_

Jonathan erupted forward yanking a loose plank from the floor. He swung and connected with the doorframe. He swung and knocked debris to the floor. He swung and he swung and he swung until his hands were numb and his shoulders ached. "I am not a disappointment!" Out of breath, he collapsed in a heap on the floor. "I'm not a disappointment. I'm not," he protested in a small voice to the empty room.

The anger was leeched out of him, replaced by the crushing despair and hopelessness that was his constant companion in his childhood. The memories continued to assault him, the voices echoing through his mind.

He looked around him. There was the nail where the belt hung. The closet he hid in. The window he had nearly been thrown out of. The plastered-over hole in the wall where his head had been slammed against. The bathroom where he had been nearly drowned in the shower. The kitchen where the poison sandwiches were made. Not one room in this tiny home had been safe.

The ghosts surrounded him as the voices of the past taunted him with their devilish siren song. He covered his ears to block them out. "You're not in control anymore. Just leave me alone!" His eyes were scrunched shut. When he opened them and lowered his hands, the peaceful silence enveloped him.

Jonathan had begun by opening the door to the past. Now he had to step through the doorway to get to the other side. He dug out the diary and opened to a random page:

_I'm so scared. Daddy hit Jonathan so hard today. He still hasn't woken up. I don't know what to do. What if he never wakes up? I can't lose him. I love him so much. I can't survive this without him._

The words blurred slightly, but quickly came back into focus. He pressed on, skipping ahead.

_Jonathan's slipping away. His grip on reality is lessening. I'm trying everything I can, but it's not working. The medications aren't working. He still thinks daddy's alive and I can't convince him he's not. It hurts me more than anything that I'm free of the hell that his mind is holding him captive in. I wish I could join him there so he wasn't alone. What if he's trapped in that hell forever?_ _What if I can't keep him safe?_

His heart ached with gratitude all over again for everything Erin had done for him. She had saved his life on more than one occasion, but he had failed to save hers. That hard truth sent a dagger through his chest, and then the tears really did come. "I'm so sorry, Erin. I shoulda been there." His chested heaved with large, gulping sobs. He cried until his eyes ran dry and his head ached. "It should have been me," he apologized to the empty room. "I should have died instead."

_A miracle happened. I have my brother back! He woke up after his seizure and there he was - the brother that I knew was in there beneath the delusions and the medications and the tumor and the brain damage. I've been praying for this moment and it finally happened. He's whole again, and in love on top of it. How I've missed that smile. Only happiness from now on._

He flipped to the last entry, made only a month before her death:

_I'm an aunty, and I'm spoiling him rotten. But so's his father so I guess it's okay. I'm so excited we're finally here. Whoever thought the Lavery family would find happiness? But here it is. I love both my brothers so much, but Jonathan... Jonathan is not only the brother I love dearly, but I consider him my best friend. We've been through so much together and I am so proud to see the man that he's become. He's got a brilliant mind, but an even larger heart - capable of loving like no other. And I know he loves me and Ryan. My one wish for him is that he can see the goodness in himself and turn the love inward. Ryan's come to terms with the past, and with his help so have I. I hope one day Jonathan will too see the amazing, sweet, kind, loving, good man in the mirror that I do when I look at him. I'll help him get there, and if I can't, then Ryan will. It's over, Jonathan. It's finally over. I love you so much and I'm so glad I am your sister. You make me proud everyday._

That was the last entry. It was as if she were writing him a letter from beyond the grave. Always the caring sister, always knowing what to say or do to stem his pain, she had reached out one more time to give her brother the faith in himself he needed. Holding the book to his chest, his cherished her words in that bittersweet moment. "It's not quite over, Erin. But it almost is. I'm going to make sure of it."

Jonathan sniffed loudly and began unpacking his acquisitions. "Yep, it's going to end tonight - one way or the other."

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"Can't you make this thing go any faster?" Ryan lurched forward from the back seat impatiently.

"Rental cars are built for durability, not speed," Tad reminded him. "The plane ride at least got us into Iowa in under an hour. We'll be there soon."

"Not soon enough for me." Ryan tapped his hands nervously against the back of the seat as Aidan struggled to make out the markings on the map. "There's the town limit sign. We're almost there."

The rest of the short ride was spent in a tense silence. The dilapidated buildings streamed by, broken down by years of abandonment. The familiar building loomed in the distance, an ominous figure cut out from the sky.

"That's it! That's his car!" Ryan was pointing to a vehicle parked askew in the alleyway. He was opening the car door and he jumped out before Tad came to a complete stop.

His shoes made a hollow slapping sound as they pounded the pavement. He reached the front door before Tad and Aidan even had a chance to unbuckle their seatbelts.

Ryan's fist thudded the door repeatedly. "Hockett! It's Ryan! If you're in there, let me in." Ryan rattled the lock, searching to gain entry. "Hockett!"

When there was no response he ran to the alley with the intention of climbing up the fire escape, but it had rusted through and the remains hung pitifully, swaying in the breeze. The fear ran up his spine and took root in his heart. He ran frantically back to the front door screaming his brother's name at the top of his lungs.

Jonathan appeared before him out of the shadows like an apparition partitioned by the glass. "Ryan."

"Jonathan," was Ryan's breathless greeting.

"Go home." Jonathan was not asking or merely suggesting, he was commanding him.

"No, uh-uh. Not without you." When Jonathan stood firmly in his spot, Ryan made a demand of his own. "It's time to go, Jonathan."

"No, Ryan. I have unfinished business here."

"What? What business?"

"I think you know."

Ryan hung his head. He did know. "Not like this," he pleaded in a coarse whisper.

"I need to do this. It's the only way." The determination translated through the plexiglass and the iron gate.

"No." His objection sounded false and unconvincing.

Jonathan pressed a rectangle object up to the door. "I finally read it."

Erin's diary. A spark of hope alighted in Ryan.

"I'm doing this for all of us, Ryan. Including Erin." The sadness crept into the corners of his eyes. "I wish she could be here."

"She can't, Hockett." Ryan's voice was strangulated with emotion. "Erin's dead. She's gone. You need to grieve for her."

"I have."

Ryan took in Jonathan's calm exterior. As unnerving as that was under the circumstances, the emptiness in his brother's eyes scared him more. "Okay. But have you grieved for yourself?"

This odd question captured Jonathan's attention. "What are you talking about? I'm not the one that died."

Ryan hesitated, uncertain how far he should take it. "Yes, in a way you are. A part of you has been dead for so long, lost in that black nothing of our childhood." Jonathan did a double-take, surprised at how astute Ryan's observation was. "The part that could let yourself feel worthy of love and happiness. The part..."

The rising moon was reflected in the tears that swam in Jonathan's eyes. Ryan knew he had struck a nerve. He pressed a hand to the glass wanting to reach through it and ease his brother's pain. But words were all he had now. "It's over, Jonathan."

He shook his head slowly. "Not yet. But it will be soon."

The icy fingerof fear slithered back into his chest, turning his blood cold. "What are you going to do, Jonathan?"

"I'm going to put an end to it. Tonight."

"Jonathan, let me in. Please, Jonathan. You can't kill the ghosts. Not like this."

"You're wrong. It has to be this way. I'm sorry." Jonathan took two steps back, swathed in the shadows. Time seemed to freeze as he held Ryan's eyes with his own. "I love you, Ryan."

"I love you, too, Hockett." His throat was thick with emotion. "Please let me in. Please come home with me," he made one last attempt. But the pleas were swallowed up by the night, Jonathan having disappeared back into the abandoned house.

Ryan slammed his fist into the door in frustration. He gave it a kick for emphasis. Aidan and Tad sidled up next to him without him noticing. "I think Jonny wants to be alone, mate. Maybe it's best if you let him be."

"I can't just leave him here."

"Ryan, you and I both know that he has to come to terms with things on his own," Tad reasoned. "You've done a lot, but he has to go the rest of the way alone."

Ryan parked himself on the curb. "I'm not leaving. Not until I know Jonathan's going to be okay."

"Well, we're not going to leave you stranded out here." Tad sat down next to him. "Is there anywhere-"

The tinkling of breaking glass interrupted his thought. The trio searched for the source, and looked on in shock as plumes of black smoke billowed up, merging with the clouds. The acrid smell reached them, breaking the initial paralysis.

"Hockett!" Ryan jumped to his feet, his cry drowned out by a large explosion. A ball of fire blossomed above, blocking out the moon. The wave of heat from the blast knocked him back as flames licked ferociously at the windows.

"Hockett," Ryan yelled, the smoke stinging his lungs. He rushed forward, barely restrained by Tad and Aidan. "Let me go! That's my brother in there! Hockett! Let go of me!"

"Do you want to get yourself killed?"

"I don't care!" The tears burned as they came, a product of the overwhelming smoke and panic for his brother. His heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest. "That's my brother in there," he choked out.

Ryan almost broke free of their grasp, but Tad and Aidan were able to hold on at the last second. He continued screaming his brother's name until his throat was raw. They looked on in horror as the roof collapsed suddenly sending up a shower of sparks that illuminated the night sky. The sparks rained down around them, the embers dying out as they hit the concrete, making a sickening sizzling sound before they were snuffed out.

Ryan's strength was enhanced by his blinding panic at the thought of his brother beneath the wreckage. He wriggled his arms out of their hold and ran full speed toward the inferno. His grief-laden cries for his brother ripped through the night. "Hockett! HOCKETT!"


	8. Chapter 8

The black smoke wafted up to the sky, obscuring what was left of the starlight. The flames danced hypnotically in the breeze, casting flickering shadows onto the street below. Sirens swelled far off in the distance drowning out Ryan's anguished cries as he ran blindly towards the burning building.

Aidan and Tad caught up with him and muscled him backwards. Roped cords stood out on Ryan's neck as he strained against their iron grips, continually calling out for his brother until his throat was raw. Firemen began to stream past him, setting up their equipment in a choreographed frenzy. The reflectors on their protective coats winked at him tauntingly in the moonlight.

Ryan broke free again momentarily, catching a firefighter by the arm. "Please... my brother's in there. You've got to get him out of there."

He gave him a sympathetic glance. "We'll send some men in as soon as we can." He eyed the collapsed roof with concern before leaving with a cursory, "Stay back" as he went to confer with his colleagues, strategizing on a way to enter the raging inferno it had now become.

Forceful sprays erupted from the hoses around them sending sooty water dripping down from above. The flames dampened and the re-emerged, stubbornly refusing to be snuffed out. The top corner of the building appeared to crumble in on itself as it too was devoured by the ravenous fire.

An invisible band wrapped around Ryan's chest, squeezing his heart painfully and making it difficult to draw breath as the desperation took over. "Why aren't they going in there? Why aren't they helping him?"

Tad placed a hand on Ryan's shoulder to steady him. "They're trying to get the fire under control. Right now if any more men go in there, the whole thing could collapse."

"So I'm just supposed to sit here and do nothing? No, uh-uh - I've got to go in there."

"Ryan, if you go in there you might not come back out. Emma and Spike need you. Annie needs you. And if, God forbid, Jonathan _is_ in there and he's badly hurt, _he's_ going to need you," Tad stated firmly.

This gave Ryan pause. "So I'm just supposed to sit here and do nothing," he repeated.

"Yeah. Let the professionals handle it."

Tad's words were a harbinger. Loaded down with gear, several men charged into what was left of the building. Ryan's body visibly tightened with fear at what they would find. He watched the man on the walkie-talkie intensely, searching his face for any indication of what was transpiring inside.

A new vehicle pulled up behind one of the fire trucks. The lights were pulsating with an ominous red glow. Ryan was so focused on the ambulance that he did not see one of the firemen reemerge from the still-burning building.

Aidan made his way over to him, being careful to keep his back turned to Ryan. "Have you found anything yet?"

"There wasn't much to find. Just this." He slipped off his glove and dug deep into his pocket and handed Aidan two items.

Aidan fingered the badly charred watch. It was still warm to the touch. His heart fell as he opened the wallet. The credit cards were melted together and the other items were badly singed, but the driver's license behind the plastic case was still legible. It was Jonathan's wallet. "Any sign of him?"

Instead of answering, he tilted his head in Ryan's direction. "Is that the brother?"

"Yeah." Aidan was growing impatient. "And he would greatly appreciate knowing if you found his brother."

The other man shrugged uncomfortably. "Like I said, there wasn't much to find. I really think you should get him out of here."

Aidan had seen enough action in the jungles to understand the duplicit meaning. Ryan would not leave without putting up one hell of a fight. He did the only thing he could think of. He came up behind Ryan and tapped him on the shoulder. When Ryan turned around he landed an uppercut square on his jaw, laying him out.

"What was that for," Tad shouted.

"Friendship," Aidan answered simply. He showed the watch and the wallet to Tad. "He shouldn't be here for this."

"Oh no."

Aidan nodded. "We've got to get him out of here before he starts coming to."

Tad worked solemnly with Aidan to maneuver Ryan into the car. They drove away in silence, each locked inside their own minds. Aidan glanced in the rearview mirror. The undulating lights were still visible, but rapidly shrinking into the distance.

He caught Tad's eyes. Both were wondering the same thing - just how in the hell they were going to break it to Ryan that his last blood relative, the brother he was closer to than anyone in the world, was not coming back to him?

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Aidan shut the door softly behind him. He had helped Tad into the hotel room with Ryan and left again to make absolutely sure that there was no way Jonathan could have made it out alive. He couldn't bear the thought of telling Ryan, and there was a part of him that hung onto the hope that it wasn't true. But the awful reality was - it was.

"Ryan's still out?"

"Yeah. He hasn't so much as moved. You must've knocked him a good one." Tad crossed his legs and placed his chin on his closed fist. "Any chance this was all a big mistake?"

Aidan shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid not. There was no other known route out, and the second floor was demolished. There was nothing that could have survived up there."

"What about the wallet and the watch?"

"They were found on the first floor. Jonathan must've dropped them when he was downstairs talking to Ryan."

"There's no way?"

"No. You were there. If Jonathan was in there - and we know he was - he...he couldn't have..."

Ryan moaned and stirred, diverting the two men's attention. He rubbed at his jaw as his bleary eyes tried to focus. The brightness from the bedside lamp caused him to squint. Aidan leaned forward in the chair he was now sitting in, thankfully obstructing the light's path.

"How you doing, mate?"

Ryan thought it an odd question under the circumstances. He still wasn't completely cognizant until he caught the uneasiness in the shifting of Aidan's eyes. Ryan sat bolt upright, the past few hours flooding back unrelentingly. "Jonathan! Oh my God...where is my brother? What happened?"

Tad moved into view, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Ryan..."

"Why are we sitting in this hotel room? Why aren't we still looking for Jonathan?" His heart failed to believe what his head already knew to be true.

The light flickered as Aidan changed positions. "Ryan. Mate..."

Ryan's head swayed from side to side. "No. No. No, don't say it, Aidan. I'm begging you. Don't say it."

"I'm so sorry, Ryan. Jonathan didn't make it."

His heart literally stopped beating for several long, drawn out seconds. He blew out a shaky breath trying to process the words that reverberated in his head. Ryan gulped and tried to swallow around the thickness in his throat. "Jonathan's...he's..."

Aidan sighed forlornly. He knew Ryan needed to hear the words so there was no doubt, but he was loathe to speak them. Saying them out loud would make it real, bring to it a finality he could not take back. He nearly choked on the words as they left his mouth. "I'm so sorry, Ryan. Jonathan's dead."

Ryan's face crumpled, the lower lip quivering in a fashion reminiscent of his brother. His head slowly lowered into his hands, the only other movement the slight hitching of his chest. After only a few moments he composed himself, the grief replaced with his usual stoicism. "I want to see Jonathan."

"I wish you could, mate, but you can't."

"What do you mean I can't?" Ryan's grief was replaced by indignation. "He's my brother. I have a right to see him. Take me to him."

Tad looked upwards as if searching for a miracle, but there were no miracles here. "There's um...there's nothing to see. I'm not sure how to say this, but the explosion..."

"So there's no body? Then how can you say he's dead?" Ryan was shouting now. "How can you sit there and tell me my brother is dead if no one can find his body? He could have easily gotten out."

"Ryan, the second floor was completely demolished. The windows were nailed shut. The fire escape was unusable, and he didn't come out the front door. There was no other way out. I wish it wasn't the case, but it is."

"So that's what we're basing it on? Jonathan's resourceful. He could've -"

"No, he couldn't." Aidan removed two items from a plastic bag and placed them in front of Ryan. He removed another item from a second bag that was recovered from the alleyway.

Ryan stared at all three, in stark contrast to the bedspread. He picked up the one closest to him. He traced the dial of Jonathan's watch with the tip of his finger. The metal was warped and bent out of shape. Ryan placed the watch down and lifted up the wallet, opening it carefully. He gently touched the singed license, letting his finger linger a moment on the photo on the driver's license. He took a deep breath before reaching for the third object. The pages were blackened and the acrid smell of smoke still lingered, but there was no mistaking Erin's diary. Jonathan would have not left it behind voluntarily. He had nearly fallen off a building to keep from losing the last tie to his sister.

The denial gave way to the shock of disbelief. "He's really gone." Ryan couldn't stop his voice from cracking anymore than he could prevent the hot tears that sprung to the corners of his eyes. A small spark of hope slipped through. "Are you - are they sure?"

"They're sure."

Ryan clasped the diary in both hands and bowed his head, ignoring the ashy smell that emanated from it. He whispered one word, repeating it over and over, it leaving his lips as reverently as a prayer. "Jonathan..."

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"Thank you, Julia. I really appreciate you taking Emma for a couple days." Annie gathered a few bags together and set them by the door. She glanced up the stairs making sure Emma was still out of earshot.

"I just wish I could do more. I still can't believe it."

"Neither can I." Annie struggled to keep here voice even. "I explained it to Emma, but I'm not really sure she entirely understands that he's never coming back."

"Kids can surprise you."

"Yeah. And listen, if she has any problems, please call me. I hate sending her off, but I know Ryan's not in good shape at all."

"Hey, it's no problem. I'm happy to do it. And Kathy will love it. If there's anything else I can do, don't hesitate to call."

"Thanks, Julia." Annie went upstairs to retrieve Emma leaving Julia to take in the Penthouse.

She wondered over to the bookcase, smiling at a picture of Emma and Kathy. The two girls had been inseparable from the moment they laid eyes on one another. The next picture captured a precious family moment, Emma's eyes shining with happiness from her position between Annie and Ryan. In the last picture Emma was simply beaming, clearly at ease in her Uncle Jon's arms. Julia felt a surprising tug at her heart strings. She never thought in a million years she'd develop a friendship with the man who had murdered her brother-in-law.

Years later, as he strove to right all the wrongs and put back together the pieces of his life, she couldn't help but respect and admire him. There was a mixture of pity and sadness for all he had been through, and of pride too on her part, that she may have helped in some small way as he struggled through the brain-damaged mire to rebuild his life.

"That was after our teddy bear picnic."

Julia gasped and nearly dropped the picture. She hadn't heard the pair descend the steps. Julia started to place the photograph in its home, but Emma reached for it.

"Can I take it with me, mommy?"

"Of course, sweetie."

Julia handed her the photograph and Emma hugged it to her. "Mommy says Uncle Jon went to Heaven."

Julia knelt down. "Yes, he did, Emma. I'm so sorry. I know you must miss him."

Emma studied the floor, having broached a subject she clearly wasn't comfortable with. "I wanna see Kathy now."

"Okay." Annie gave her a peck on the cheek and whispered reassuring words before Julia led her to the door. As they passed through the doorway, Emma turned to face her mother. "Does Daddy miss Uncle Jon, too?"

"Yes, sweetie." Annie could no longer keep the tears in check, turning slightly to hide them from Emma. "He misses him very much."

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Ryan hesitated outside the door to his Penthouse, stalling the inevitable onslaught of memories and questions he didn't have the answers to. He took a deep breath and ran his hand over the edge of the doorframe searching for the extra key, his copy lost amidst the chaos of the last forty-eight hours.

The door opened to his home, but it seemed foreign to him. His coat was where he had left it, the furniture hadn't been rearranged, not one thing was out of place, but yet there was one glaring difference. There was a void before him and within him, a gaping hole, that could never be filled again.

Annie rounded the corner, gazing at him with red-rimmed eyes. The edges around her were softened, lending to the surreal, dream-like state he was drifting in. He rubbed a hand along his unshaven jaw, the only concrete thing anchoring him to the present.

His wife crossed the room and embraced him. She held onto him silently. There were no words she could offer that would stem the hurt. They would only be empty platitudes.

"I, um...I told Aidan and Tad not to come up. I just needed some time." Ryan spoke first, answering the unasked question.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"No. No, I just want to hold you right now." Annie nodded against his chest to indicate she wasn't going anywhere. "Does Emma know?"

Annie pulled back a bit. "Yeah. Yeah, I told her." It was her turn to answer an unspoken question. "Julia took her for a sleep over with Kathy. I figured it would do both of you some good."

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"So, are you, Ryan."

"I don't feel so amazing right now." Annie looked at him quizzically. He was in no mood to explain, but he attempted to anyway. "I failed Jonathan again. And this time he's dead because of it."

"Ryan, you are not responsible. How could you have possibly known that this is where everything would lead? You couldn't have prevented it."

"But that's the thing. I did see the signs. Jonathan was spiraling downwards for months. I thought...I don't know...for a while I thought he just needed to grieve for Erin. But then he nearly took a header off the Fusion rooftop." Annie looked mildly surprised at the revelation but didn't interrupt.

"The things he was saying...Then the nightmares started - or got worse. The disappearing acts...I should have done something."

"You are not to blame," Annie said emphatically.

"I know better than anyone that you can't out run your past. It catches up with you and you're powerless to stop it. I should have-"

This time Annie did cut him off. "Ryan, you did a lot for Jonathan. There was nothing that you did or didn't do that could have changed the course of things."

"It wasn't enough." Ryan bit his lip to repress the tears. "I did everything that I could think of, but I couldn't save him. I loved him so much, but it wasn't enough."

Annie didn't know how much more her heart could take. It broke for her husband that could not shake the guilt of a brother left behind to be tormented by their sadistic father, and for her brother-in-law that she cared for so dearly that had ultimately succumbed to the demons of the past. Both had suffered a lifetime of pain, peppered only by short intervals of happiness, ultimately ending in tragedy. She chose her next words carefully, hoping they could bring a little comfort, however naive that thought was. "Jonathan knew how much you loved him."

"That was the last thing I ever said to him, ya know. I begged him to come home with me. I told him I loved him."

"And he loved you too - so much. You have to hang on to that."

Ryan struggled to gain composure. "Those were his last words to me - 'I love you, Ryan'." Ryan replayed those words in his mind as he watched his brother's face being swallowed up by the shadows over and over again. The small, sad smile on Jonathan's lips wasn't enough to mask the pain that he always carried inside.

As the image faded with agonizing slowness from his mind, Ryan sat in his living room answering the memory. "I love you, too, Hockett." Now the tears really did come.

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Amanda stared into the solemn faces of all her housemates. It had been quite some time since they had all been gathered in one room. They were all there - save for one. The feeling of dread grew in the pit of her stomach as no one could look her in the eye.

She was about to make a flippant remark, but the words died on her lips as she caught sight of Julia's blood shot eyes. "You guys are starting to freak me out. What's going on?"

"Amanda..."

Di wordlessly led her over to the chair facing the fireplace. Robotically, she sat, still not comprehending the gravity of the situation. Amanda followed Jamie's gaze to the empty window seat, frequently occupied by Jonathan in past group get-togethers. Her heart thudded sickeningly in her chest. "Can someone please tell me what is going on?"

Di knelt down in front of her. "Amanda...sweetie...," she paused unsure of how to start. She decided to ease into it. "A few days ago Ryan noticed that Jonathan went missing. He didn't show up for work."

Amanda's mouth went dry and her breath caught in her throat. "Did - did he ever find him? Please tell me that Ryan found him."

Di nodded, but again she had trouble looking her in the eye. "Yes."

"What else aren't you saying? What else aren't you saying, Di," Amanda screamed.

"There was a fire...Jonathan didn't make it."

"What!?"

Seeing Di's uncertainty at how to proceed caused Julia to intervene. "There was an explosion. Jonathan was inside. There was no way out. I'm so sorry, Amanda."

"No, that can't be. If there was something like that we would have heard it on the news, or - or-"

"It didn't happen in Pine Valley. It was in Des Moines."

"Des Moines?" Her thoughts were moving in slow motion as if they were covered in a cerebral molasses. It took several moments for her to retrieve the information lodged in the recesses of her mind. "As in where they grew up?"

"The very place," Julia confirmed.

"Oh my God. Not like this, not like this. It's all my fault." Amanda's words ran together in an emotional torrent.

"Amanda, this is no one's fault. Not Jonathan's - and certainly not yours," Di attempted to soothe her.

"It was a terrible, tragic accident," Julia agreed.

The tears continued to collect in her eyes and stream down her cheeks as she shook off their words. "I forced him into something he wasn't ready for. And now he's dead because of it. If only I would have listened to him."

Jaime, who had been largely silent until now, came forward. "This is so not your fault. You could not have predicted any of this." He cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "You are not responsible."

"You don't understand. If I would've just married him like he wanted, he'd still be here. Instead of just accepting his past as a part of him, I insisted he try to find a way to move on. I wanted to start with a clean slate - for the baby." Her last statement elicited a new onslaught of tears as she rubbed the protruding bump of her stomach. "I pushed him into something he wasn't ready for and now - now..."

Julia sighed. "I don't think you pushed him into anything," she speculated. "I think this is something that has been a long time coming."

Amanda glared at her. "Are you saying that this was inevitable? That he somehow-"

Julia cut her off. "Not at all. What I meant was, I think Jonathan's been on a collision course with his past for a long time. He's done everything in his power to move on, but... The past is a part of you, and if you let it, it will define who you are. There's no escape."

"Except death," Amanda finished bitterly. "Why? Why did it have to end like this?" She dissolved into bereft tears mixed with anger. She cried for herself and for the baby, but mostly she cried for the man that never believed how important and needed - how loved - he was. The man that was deaf to all but the voices of the past, condemning him to a life of self-deprecation. And now, all chances for the happiness and the family he was destined for - and deserved - were lost.

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The dreaded day had finally arrived. Ryan had postponed it as long as possible, clinging to that last shred of hope that his brother would be found alive and all the preparations would be superfluous and unnecessary. He could put it off no longer. Two weeks later, at Annie's gentle urging, his brother was finally being laid to rest.

He arrived first, wanting to avoid all the pitying stares directed at him, the bereaved brother. Tender, green shoots carpeted the ground, hushing his footfalls as he stepped near the gravesite. A light, spring breeze caressed him. Despite the warmth of the sun, Ryan felt a coldness inside him like he'd never felt before.

The beauty of the day seemed obscene. Despite the crisp azure of the sky, this was about as far from a "blue sky day" as he could get. He longed for the sanctity of those days - good days spent with his brother. Some of the worst moments of his life involved Jonathan, and this one topped the list. But most of the best moments involved him also. The good and the bad were so intertwined that he couldn't imagine even taking a breath without his brother by his side. Reality had intervened, cruelly ripping them apart, leaving him with a loneliness that was unfathomable.

Ryan sat down in the first row, unable to take his eyes off the coffin that was more symbolic than anything. The spray of roses on top mocked him with the emptiness inside. There was nothing to bury.

The 'what-ifs' and 'could've-beens' assaulted his mind unrelentingly. They were fruitless, but washed over him in waves, nonetheless. An image of Jonathan flitted through his mind. He saw him standing at the now-vacant pulpit, at Erin's funeral, struggling valiantly to complete the eulogy, but failing. He saw himself passing the roses to Annie, rising from the seat he now sat in to embrace his brother and kissing him chastely on the neck when the emotions finally overtook him.

Ryan had told him it was all going to be okay, but nothing was okay. He had let him down again - and in the worst possible way. His eyes drifted over to the grave marker that bore his sister's name. It was only fitting that Jonathan be reunited with Erin. That was the one thing he had gotten right.

The sadness that emanated from Jonathan on that day of their sister's funeral was now understood by Ryan in a way he had never hoped to. He was being devoured from the inside out with his grief until there was nothing left but an empty shell. The world receded as he wallowed in it, ignoring the seats behind him that were now half-full with fellow mourners.

A hand fell lightly on his shoulder. He half-turned and caught sight of Erica.

"Oh, Ryan. Words cannot express to you how sorry we are." Ryan found it too difficult to respond so he merely nodded his acknowledgment.

"Ryan." Jack offered his hand which Ryan accepted. "I wish things had ended differently. I just..." Jack stumbled over his words, a rarity for a man who made a living persuading juries with his verbose diatribes.

Erica came to his rescue. "Lily sends her love. She wanted to be here, but it's really all just too much for her."

Ryan cleared his throat. "I understand. Thank you." He turned his attention to a group of Jonathan's roommates that were now arriving. He accepted the well-meaning condolences numbly, interested only in the appearance of Amanda.

She stood between Di and Julia, more leaning on them than anything. Ryan tried to catch her eye, but she was led into a row before he could manage to do so. Instead, he caught sight of Kendall's tear-streaked face. She gave him a wan smile that he didn't return. As he heard the music swell, he sighed wearily, steeling himself for the rest of it.

Annie sat down next to him with Emma in her lap. The sparkle that normally inhabited her eyes was dimmed by the darkness of the day. Ryan had argued vehemently against her presence wanting to spare her innocence from death, but Annie had persisted. And when Emma had nearly demanded that she get to say goodbye to her Uncle Jon, Ryan had relented, not possessing the energy to fight anyway.

The sickening feeling in his stomach grew with each person that rose to give their speech. He suffered through all the well-meaning sentiments, longing for it to be over. His mask of stoicism was showing the cracks.

Blessedly a line formed to walk past the casket, paying their last respects. Ryan hung back, allowing everyone else their privacy which would assure his own. Annie knew that intuitively and lifted Emma close to her as she went past. As Amanda walked past, Ryan reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Amanda..."

"Ryan, why?" Her tears had not stopped since she had heard the news. And Ryan knew that whatever he said would have a similar effect. He didn't have the answer to that question anyway. So he merely shook his head.

Finally, he was alone at the gravesite. He let a few of the tears he had been holding in slip out. His facade crumbled as he stood and inched closer to the casket, kneeling down beside it. The cloying smell of the roses was obtrusive, but he laid an arm across the top anyway fingering the soft petals.

He sat without speaking, gathering his thoughts. Finally, he broke the silence. "I miss you so much - more than I've ever missed anybody. I never thought I'd have to lose you all over again. I thought...I dunno...I thought we'd run my company together, retire together, and be crotchety old men together." He tried a wry smile, but it felt wrong.

Ryan buried his head in the sleeve of his outstretched arm. "You've been through so much, but you fought your way back time and time again. Why couldn't you fight this time?

"It's not your fault. It's my fault. It's all my fault. I should have fought harder for you. I saw you being torn apart, little by little and I should have done more - done something. Whatever it was, it wasn't enough.

"If I could, I'd switch places with you in a heartbeat. It should have been me. It's not fair. I know you were scared, but you never had the chance to find out what a great father you'd be - and you woulda been. I have no doubt. More than any of us, you deserved the happy family you never had."

"You have - had - such a big heart. I watched it being torn to pieces bit by bit, day after day, and yet I did nothing." Ryan's voice wavered, tightening with overwhelming emotion. "I failed you again. I couldn't save you. I just - I hope that you've finally found the peace in death that you never found in your life. I love you, Hockett."

Ryan kissed his hand and placed it lovingly on the casket. Rationally he knew it was time to leave, but he laid his head down on top of his arm, refusing for the moment to leave his brother alone as he had done so many years previously.

Annie looked on, her arms achingly empty from Emma's weight. She wondered how Ryan would make it through this. She was a smart enough woman to realize that her help wouldn't be enough this time. It would take a lot more than her love and the passing of time to ease Ryan's pain.

She didn't believe in guardian angels until she had been sent Erin to keep her and her daughter safe. And then came the answer to her prayers in the form of Jonathan who not only hid her and Emma to keep them together, but had ensured their safety from then on with an action that would cost him emotionally and psychologically through his last days. She owed him more than she could ever repay, but she called on his help one more time - not for her sake, but for his older brother's.

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Just over two months had passed - two long, virtually sleepless months. When sleep did come, it was plagued with dreams. Dreams that were infused with images of Jonathan. They were a mixture of memories and conversations melded together with a future never to be. The dreams were fleeting and Ryan clung to sleep with a ferocity, unwilling to reenter a world that his brother no longer inhabited.

When he was forced to come back to reality, he was on autopilot, carrying out the bare minimum of interactions, preferring to withdraw into himself. His company had suffered, no one left at the helm to manage it. Ryan was beyond caring. He had only built it as a vehicle to allow him to work alongside his brother, nearly begging Jonathan in the beginning to join him. When he finally did, the company soared and he took pride in ownership and in watching Jonathan find an outlet for his brilliant mind. Now...now the whole thing could implode for all it was worth. The whole reason for it was gone.

His marriage was suffering, too. Annie was an endless well of patience, giving him as much space as he needed, but even she was growing frustrated with the wall he built around himself, shutting out herself and the daughter they shared. The only person he said more than two words to was Amanda. They had something terrible in common, both losing someone they loved more than their own life. Plus, he felt it his brotherly duty to see that his niece or nephew and the mother were taken care of in a manner that Jonathan would have had he been here.

That was a painful subject to dwell on. Jonathan would not be here to see his son or daughter. He would never get to experience holding them and inhaling that sweet baby smell. He would never get to let go of the fear and realize he was not doomed to repeat history.

Ryan sunk down further into the chair, sipping on his drink, trying to put all those thoughts out of his mind. He closed the photo album that had sat open on his lap, and put it to the side as the clock chimed two-thirty in the morning. There was a lot of night before him. He drained the drink in another long swallow, trying to induce another fitful slumber. Eventually sleep did come, and with it, another dream.

_Ryan opened his eyes. The living room was still dark, the small fire providing the only illumination. The drink - several, actually - hadn't worked for long. He worked the stiffness out of his neck with a weary sigh._

_Footfalls fell lightly on the hardwood floor. Ryan rose, prepared to put Emma back to bed. She had got in the habit of getting up in the night again just like her daddy. But the footfalls weren't coming from behind, but echoing all around him. _

_The click of the door cut through the silence, a small clattering following as keys were flung onto the table next to the door in the alcove_. _An eery calm washed over the room. Ryan stood, hesitant, afraid to find the source of the noises._

_His fear heightened as a figure emerged from the shadows. His relief was palpable as the firelight fell on the face of his brother, giving him a spectral-like appearance. "Jonathan... you're back."_

"_Did I leave," came the enigmatic reply._

_Ryan didn't know how to answer that. Instead he moved in for a hug. "I'm so glad you're back, man. I missed you."_

"_What are you doing?" _

_Ryan stopped in his tracks, frozen by his brother's angry tone. "What do you mean, 'what am I doing'? It's not like I haven't given you a million hugs before. Relax, Hockett."_

"_Not that." Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I mean that," he said pointing to the nearly empty bottle of alcohol, "and that." Suddenly Ryan was staring at his wife, hugging a pillow in her sleep, his side of the bed unslept in yet again. Emma lay sprawled across the bottom, dried tear tracks on her tiny face. _

_He had no memory of going up the stairs. It was almost if he had been... transported. His brother's voice sliced through the confusion. "You've left them. You've left them for memories and a ghost. Why would you do that? That's not the Ryan I know." _

_Jonathan had shown him in one glaringly clear gesture that his self-imposed isolation had left his wife and daughter feeling lonely and abandoned. But he could do very little to change it. "The Ryan you know is dead and gone. He went away the very second you did."_

"_Who says I'm gone? I'm right here, aren't I?"_

"_This is a dream. I'll wake up and then you'll be gone again. There's nothing I can do to change that." Ryan shrugged resignedly. _"_And then I'll wake up and start missing you all over again."_

_Jonathan's eyes bore into him. "Ryyyan," he drew out his name as he sometimes did when he was making a serious point, "how can you miss someone that's never left?"_

_Now it was Ryan's turn to show his irritation. "What are you talking about? You're dead, Jon. This is a dream and you're dead. We buried you."_

_The corners of his younger brother's mouth turned up slightly. "Did you? Did you really?"_

"_Don't play coy with me little brother. I was there for every agonizing second."_

"_You can't read me as well as you think you can," Jonathan corrected. "You assume I'm being coy, but maybe I'm just trying to get you to see what you aren't able to through your pain. Did you really bury me or did the past already do the job? The question is, was I able to fight my way back through the ruins of our childhood."_

_Jonathan began to turn, one hand reaching towards the door. Ryan tried to delay the inevitable. "Don't go, Hockett. Not yet," he quietly begged. _

_Jonathan shook his head sadly. "I have to. None of this is real - not really. You know that. Think about it."_

"_Don't go. You can't leave it like this. Please, Hockett...," he called after Jonathan's retreating form. "I don't understand." But Jonathan was already gone - again._

Ryan jerked himself awake, disturbed by the content of his dream. His skin was slick with the sick, cold perspiration usually left over from a nightmare. But this was no nightmare, nor was it the normal poignant, yet bittersweet dream of Jonathan that he'd been experiencing night after night after night.

He tried to work out the meaning as he peeled himself off the chair. Reaching for the glass, his hand stopped short as he remembered Jonathan's admonishment. He glanced upwards, guiltily acknowledging to himself that he had spent every night down here since the funeral as his dream-brother had not so subtly pointed out.

However, it was the last half of the conversation that sent his mind into a dizzying tailspin. Was Jonathan trying to tell him they hadn't buried him? That much he knew. There was no body to recover. But was did the comment about being buried under the ruins of their childhood mean? And fighting his way back?

"What were you trying to tell me, Hockett," Ryan whispered to the empty room.

Ryan tried to unknot the tangled mess of thoughts in his head, but they kept circling around, coming back to the same phrase - "ruins of our childhood." It echoed in his mind like a reverberating hammer. And then it hit him with sudden clarity. Ryan needed to revisit their old home, or what was left of it. That's where he would find Jonathan. The only question was would he really be dead, or would Ryan find him still alive. He didn't dare let his heart hope. Either way, he was bringing his brother home.


	9. Chapter 9

The overcast day complimented Ryan's mood. Clouds, pregnant with rain, were begging to be unburdened, lending a heaviness to the air that was palpable. There was a metallic tang of ozone in the wind that left an acidic taste in his mouth. A grayness shadowed the town causing it to look as if it were a washed out version of itself. Or maybe it was merely a reflection of his emotions, his inner turmoil leeching all the color out of his world.

He hung back, absorbing the tragic scene, afraid to go nearer for the moment. An acrid smell still carried faintly on the breeze, stinging his nostrils and bringing a watery haze to his vision - at least he blamed it on the lingering smokiness.

In the days before Ryan had scoured practically every local hospital and morgue, every street within a fifty mile radius searching for his brother. Alive was preferable, but at this point he didn't dare let himself entertain that notion. Whatever condition he found his brother in, it was imperative that he know what had happened that day. The need for closure was all encompassing. He had stalled the inevitable long enough, finally steeling himself to face the cataclysmic events of that fateful day.

Ryan walked forward, carefully side-stepping the scattered debris. As he knelt down amidst the burnt-out, skeletal remains of what was their childhood prison, he pinched some of the soot between his fingers. Its dry, brittle coolness sent shivers down his spine, the glowing embers from the fire long extinguished. He briskly dusted off his hands, unnerved by the echoing voices that seemed to rise up from the ashes themselves.

"_No, Ryan. I have unfinished business here."_

"_What? What business?"_

"_I think you know."_

_Ryan hung his head. He did know. "Not like this," he pleaded in a coarse whisper._

"_I need to do this. It's the only way." _

If he were allowed one wish, it would be to turn back the clock to that point in time. To freeze that moment so he could be given another chance to argue more vehemently with his brother, to fight for Jonathan when he no longer seemed to have the will to do so. His regret at the perceived mishandling of that moment threatened to choke him.

Instead of doing whatever it took to drag Jonathan away from the flimsily constructed prison of their past, the panic overtook him and paralyzed him. He reached, grasping at straws to keep his brother from passing the point of no return. While he succeeded in momentarily delaying Jonathan with his words, it was short-lived. Ryan's desperate pleas weren't enough to stave off the inevitable. The mouth of the dark abyss yawned wide open, and Jonathan had surrendered, unable anymore to resist being swallowed up by it. If Ryan had only known how to stop the plunge... As he searched the wreckage for answers, the scene played out in his mind for the millionth time like a spool of a film on a loop in his brain.

_Ryan took in Jonathan's calm exterior. As unnerving as that was under the circumstances, the emptiness in his brother's eyes scared him more. "Okay. But have you grieved for yourself?"_

_This odd question captured Jonathan's attention. "What are you talking about? I'm not the one that died."_

_Ryan hesitated, uncertain how far he should take it. "Yes, in a way you are. A part of you has been dead for so long, lost in that black nothing of our childhood." Jonathan did a double-take, surprised at how astute Ryan's observation was. "The part that could let yourself feel worthy of love and happiness. The part..."_

_The rising moon was reflected in the tears that swam in Jonathan's eyes. Ryan knew he had struck a nerve. He pressed a hand to the glass wanting to reach through it and ease his brother's pain. But words were all he had now. "It's over, Jonathan."_

_He shook his head slowly. "Not yet. But it will be soon."_

_The icy finger of fear slithered back into his chest, turning his blood cold. "What are you going to do, Jonathan?"_

"_I'm going to put an end to it. Tonight."_

"_Jonathan, let me in. Please, Jonathan. You can't kill the ghosts. Not like this."_

"_You're wrong. It has to be this way. I'm sorry." Jonathan took two steps back, swathed in the shadows. Time seemed to freeze as he held Ryan's eyes with his own. "I love you, Ryan."_

"I hope that wherever you are, it's finally over for you, Hockett." Ryan bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. "No one will hurt you ever again. Not me. Not our sorry excuse for an old man. No one. The past can't touch you now." That was the sole comfort he could take in his brother's passing.

Ryan rose slowly, the wind whipping his overcoat ferociously against his legs. A storm was rolling in, the rumbling of thunder not far off in the distance. He squinted against the horizon, knowing the lightning would soon be following. Just as he was contemplating returning to the hotel for the night, his eyes caught sight of a blurry shape hunkered down amidst the remaining blackened framework.

He shook his head, trying to pry the image from his mind. The ashes swirled in the increasing wind, adding to the mirage-like quality of the scene. Ryan knew if he turned and looked back the figure would disappear, proving that it was just a figment of his imagination after all. But then the silhouette moved and stretched higher against the horizon. It was standing now, looking in his direction. It wasn't that he could discern the stare from such a distance as much as feel it deep in his bones. He was pinned to his spot by invisible beams. Only one person had ever been able to make him feel like that with just one glance.

The sky had darkened ominously lending an even more surreal quality to the scene unfolding before him. The lightning flashed brightly, briefly backlighting the person striding toward him. Ryan's words caught in his throat as the figure neared, emerging from the shadows, not daring to believe his own eyes.

His brother found his voice first. "Ryan."

The voice sounded familiar, but there was a raspy undertone that was foreign. Ryan let his eyes soak in the sight he had been yearning for. He tried to dismiss it as wishful thinking, a conjuring of his subconscious. "You're not real. You can't be. This is just the stress of the past couple months catching up with me. You're dead."

"What?" Jonathan searched his older brother for a sign that he might be joking or messing with him somehow, but the paleness of his countenance suggested otherwise. "I'm not dead, Ryan. I'm right here," Jonathan thinly assured him.

Ryan slowly closed the gap between them. His hand moved of its own volition to reach out and find Jonathan's shoulder. He stared in wonderment as it did not pass through as he had initially feared. Ryan let his hand raise up a little further to his younger brother's face, allowing it to linger as he cupped his cheek. What he felt beneath his fingertips was unmistakably solid flesh and blood. Whether his nerve endings tingled with electricity because of the ensuing storm or from the sheer hunger for this contact was indistinguishable. An unintelligible sound escaped his lips as he yanked Jonathan in closer for a long awaited hug.

Ryan did not see Jonathan wince. He just squeezed harder, pressing him closer, afraid that if he let go his brother would dissipate back into nothingness. Jonathan extricated himself from the hug, puzzled by his brother's actions. "What's going on, Ryan? Why are you here?"

"I was looking for you - for your...body." Ryan averted his eyes in shame.

"What," Jonathan repeated his initial question. "What made you think that..." Ryan's nod in the direction of the ruins was all the answer he needed. A large clap of thunder coincided with his epiphany. He responded with a knowing and sympathetic look.

"How - how did you get out? Everything was destroyed." Ryan tried, but was unsuccessful in hiding his bewilderment.

There wasn't anything particularly funny about Ryan's statement, but the corner of Jonathan's mouth turned up slightly. "Do you remember how you and Braden used to sneak out at night?"

"The secret door to the root cellar?" Ryan was incredulous. "How did you know about that?"

Jonathan shrugged, his mouth twisting into a grimace as if pained. "I was small. Sometimes you guys talked and forgot I was there. I was a good listener."

Ryan stood in amazement. "But the whole thing collapsed. Aidan, the firemen, they found your wallet, your watch..."

"Some things? Is that why you thought I was dead?" His question was punctuated by another flash of lightning and a peal of thunder.

The sky opened and fat raindrops pelted their heads. "The things you left behind...there was no other trace of you. We were told there was no way you could have survived," Ryan guiltily admitted, regretting not listening to his gut and tearing the town apart until his brother was found. "What happened to you? Why did you stay away so long?"

Jonathan hesitated, twisting slightly into the wind. He narrowed his eyes against the increasingly slanting rain as he sought the proper words to explain. It was then that Ryan noticed the slight shaking of his lips. His brother shivered violently once and fell still. Another series of lightning strikes illuminated the world around them, allowing Ryan to get a glimpse of the gauze bandage peaking out from Jonathan's collar. Whatever else had happened, whatever had caused him to stay away was unimportant at the moment. His brother was alive and Ryan's renewed priority was to protect his well-being. "We can finish this conversation later. C'mon, let's get you someplace dry where we can get you warmed up."

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Jonathan came out of the tiny hotel bathroom, steam trailing behind him, with a towel draped loosely around his neck. Ryan glanced up from channel surfing and realized for the first time just how stiffly and slowly Jonathan was moving. It was if the past few months had accelerated the aging process, putting him way beyond his twenty-nine years. In some respects, Ryan speculated, that wasn't far off the mark.

His brother gave him a sheepish look. "I hate to ask, but I can't do it myself."

Ryan accepted the items Jonathan held out for him and helped his brother sit down on the bed. He studied the extent of the damage running from the base of the neck down the length of his torso, and stopping at mid thigh. The wounds looked fairly fresh, not the healing burns of over two months ago.

"Whose been helping you do this?"

"I go back to an outpatient clinic every day. That's why I had to stick around." He could feel the unasked question on the tip of Ryan's tongue. "I've only been out a few days. I had no idea what was going on back home or - you have to know I wouldn't have let you go through that." A shadow passed over his face. "Especially not after what we went through with Erin."

Ryan was clinical in his application to conceal his true emotions. "I know."

"So everyone really thinks I'm...?"

Ryan nodded. "There was a funeral..."

Jonathan's head dropped with the weight of the knowledge of what his older brother must have gone through. "I'm so, so sorry, Ryan. I had no idea," he reiterated. His tone took on a more frantic quality. "Everyone thinks I'm dead? Oh my God, Amanda. The baby. Emma!"

He had just inadvertently let it slip that Amanda was pregnant with his child, but judging from Ryan's knowing look, it was old news.

"Yeah, they do. I've been making sure Amanda and the baby are taken care of, but they all miss you like crazy, Hockett." Ryan paused, fumbling over his words. "I did, too...more than you'll ever know."

"If I'd had known...if I'd been able to..."

"It's not your fault, Hockett. You didn't know. I just - I can't tell you how grateful I am that you're sitting right in front of me now. I just want to know what happened."

Jonathan hissed as Ryan hit a particularly sensitive area, but quickly regained his composure. "I, um- I came out of the root cellar door just as the building exploded. Some of the debris...Let's just say stop, drop and roll doesn't work as well as advertised." He tried a cynical laugh that dissolved into a coughing fit.

Ryan offered him a glass of water, but he declined through the coughs. He reached over and plucked something from the pocket of his jacket. He took a long pull off an inhaler. "Residual damage," he explained.

"Smoke?"

"Some, but from the tube, too."

Ryan, who had resumed tending to his brother's wounds, paused again. "My God, Hockett. How badly were you hurt?" The question seemed dense given extent of the burns, but he could never have fathomed it was _that_ serious.

"Pretty bad, I guess," Jonathan admitted. "I managed to get my jacket off and put out the fire. At least I think...Maybe I didn't. After that things just get kind of...fuzzy. I don't even remember how I got to the hospital. I just remember fading in and out a lot. Some of that was from all the anesthesia, I guess."

Ryan continued to work as he talked. "How much anesthesia are we talking?"

"I'm not sure exactly. Maybe three or four rounds. Skin grafts mostly. More needs to be done. Obviously," he added as an afterthought.

The elder Lavery tried to keep his voice neutral, trying to prevent the worry from showing through. "That's going to be one heck of a scar."

Jonathan shrugged noncommitally. Although he had many faults, vanity had never been one of them. "They'll fade with time, I suppose. It's the ones you can't see that are the hardest to heal."

Ryan inhaled sharply. That was the cue he had been waiting for. He was uncertain how to broach the subject with Jonathan, but he had been given a perfect opening. "Why did you go there? What did you hope to accomplish by blowing our childhood home to kingdom come?"

"I told you before, you already know why."

Ryan took his time putting the last bandage in place. He came around to face Jonathan, almost deciding to shelve the discussion for another time. His brother did not look good; he was sweating profusely over his pasty complexion.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine." There were those infamous words of denial again.

"Then I'll ask you again - what were you hoping to do?"

Jonathan's eyes bore into his with an intensity that was unmatched. "I didn't just hope to, I did it."

"What? What did you do?"

"I buried the past once and for all. I set us free."

"Jonathan," Ryan began gently, "we got out a long time ago. That building was empty. The only ghosts left are in here and here," he said pointing to his head and heart respectively. "Blowing up an abandoned house won't change that."

"You - you and Braden got out. Erin and I..." Jonathan voice cracked and he blinked hard. "As long as that house was still standing, there was no hope for moving on. It was like some weird, macabre monument to our suffering. It had to be done. Can't you understand that," he virtually pleaded.

Ryan bent down and cupped the back of Jonathan's neck, mindful of the bandages. "Yeah, Hockett. Actually, I think I can."

Jonathan's eyes shone. "I know it doesn't solve everything, but it's a start, right?" He took a second to compose himself, his voice still wavering despite his valiant efforts. "God, Ryan...I've been lost, totally lost for so long."

Ryan pulled him in gingerly for a hug. He didn't know if it was more to comfort Jonathan or himself. "But you're here now, and whatever it takes I'm going to be with you the whole way. You know that, right?"

Jonathan nodded and pulled back. "I know." He gave a wan smile. "But there are some things even you can't fix. I guess what I'm trying to say is I had to lose myself before I could really find myself."

"You've never been lost, Hockett. Not really. You've had one blow after another until it was impossible to see straight and figure out which way was up. You're going to get there. I know you will, Hockett. All the bad stuff is over now. Only good things to come."

"That's what Erin said...what Erin said right before she..."

"It's going to be different this time. I promise." Ryan didn't want to give him false hope, but he had no reason to believe otherwise. He had every intention of making sure that promise was fulfilled. Nevertheless, he could feel the doubt that coursed through Jonathan. "Erin was so proud of you - she would be so proud of you to see how far you've come."

"I know," he acknowledged. "I read her diary."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And...do you finally get it?"

"Get what?"

"Erin and I moved past all the junk. She had faith in you - and so do I...always. Erin - she just wanted you to see what the rest of us see when we look at you."

"A girlfriend-abusing, kidnapping, murderer," Jonathan scoffed.

"Stop! Just stop!" Ryan commanded his full attention with his sudden outburst. His next words were spoken softly and urgently. "A good man. A good, decent man. Her hope - and mine too - is that one day you'll stop listening to all the voices and all the memories from the past and then you'll actually be able to believe it, too."

Jonathan, ever the skeptic, remained unresponsive. Ryan tried a new tactic. "I felt the same way once. Like I told you in Canada, I felt what you've been feeling all these years. The emptiness. That cold, black nothing. It was you and Erin that made me see how wrong I was. You can forgive the past, but you don't have to relive it. You are not - are NOT destined to repeat it. You helped me. Now it's my turn to make you see it, too."

"Maybe one day I can forgive our past, but I don't know if I can forgive myself." He gave a long, forlorn sigh and the ever present sad smile returned to his lips. "But I'm working on it. I guess I got a lot further to go."

"So how can I help you? What's the next step? The ball is in your court, Hockett."

"I need to go back to Pine Valley. I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do. And then there's some things I need to set right."

"Good. I was hoping you'd say that." Ryan wanted to return as soon as possible. As much as he hated to keep the people back home in the dark as far as Jonathan's miraculous reappearance was concerned, he knew it was something that should be done in person. And leaving tonight was not an option. Judging by the look of things, Jonathan was on the verge of collapse. "Let's get some rest and we'll leave in the morning."

"Yeah, okay." Jonathan snapped off the light. "Goodnight, Ryan."

"Goodnight...Jonboy." Although the room was dusted in the shadows, the smile was evident in Ryan's voice.

"That was just so...wrong."

Ryan yelped in mock surprise as a pillow whizzed past his head. "Alright, alright. I give. Goodnight, _Hockett_. I'm glad you're back."

"Me too," came the sleepy reply.

Missing for so long, the brotherly exchange warmed his heart. For the first time in months, Ryan dropped off to sleep easily and without that ache deep in his chest.

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Ryan awoke in the middle of the night to an odd rattling sound. In his disorientation, it took him a few seconds to locate the sound as coming from the bed next to him. He slid out from under his sheets and knelt down next to his brother. Jonathan's eyes were half open and his teeth were chattering violently, the heat radiating off him like off of the pavement on a hot day. "Jesus, Hockett, you're burning up."

Jonathan's eyes had trouble focusing. It was an alarming sight, given his usual sharp acuity. "We need to get you back to the hospital."

"I'm so sick of hospitals," Jonathan mumbled, barely coherent.

"I know, Hockett, but I thought I'd lost you twice already. I'm not willing to risk losing you again."

"I'm fine."

"Where have I heard that before?" Even though Ryan was outwardly rolling his eyes, on the inside his heart was jack-rabbiting. He didn't have to be a doctor to see this was no ordinary fever. "C'mon, you're going whether I have to call an ambulance or take you myself. You decide."

"Alright," he conceded weakly. "But not here. Pine Valley."

"What? You can't be serious!" Jonathan struggled to keep his gaze from wavering. "We're like a thousand miles away."

"I'm deadly serious." Jonathan licked dry lips. "Think about it. There'll be a lot less explanation if I'm in the hospital."

Ryan had to admit that there was a certain twisted logic to his thinking. "There's no way they'll let you on a plane in this shape."

"So we'll drive."

"It's way too far."

"I'll make it."

"Jon, you're way too sick."

"I'll make it," he said firmly. His head flopped back against the pillow, all his energy spent.

Ryan took a long look at his brother. His hair was plastered to his head, darkened by flop sweat, contrasting sharply with his paleness. He knew it was not the smartest idea, but once Jonathan dug in his heels there was very little chance of talking him out of it. And they didn't have time for petty arguments. Against all his better judgment, he agreed. "Alright, Hockett. I'm going to load up on supplies and get you some medicine. Then we'll go."

He expected a smile or a sigh of relief, but Jonathan had already dropped back off into a feverish slumber.

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As they came to a screeching halt in front of the emergency room doors of Pine Valley Hospital, the sky was showing the first streaks of light. It had taken over sixteen hours to get there and it was the longest sixteen hours of Ryan's life. He oscillated between hunching over the steering wheel, pushing the car as fast as it would go and pulling over on the side of the road to force Jonathan to drink and take more medicine. The stretched out silences were more than he could bear. At one point, he kept his hand on Jonathan's shoulder to reassure himself by the rise and fall of his chest that his brother was still with him.

Ryan hopped out of the car, not bothering to shut the door. He burst through the entrance and nearly collided with Julia. "Oh, Julia. Thank God! I need your help."

"What is it?" In her weary, sleep-deprived state, she was having trouble following him.

"I found him. I found my brother," Ryan nearly shouted.

Ryan's words came in short pants. It took her more than a few seconds to register what he was saying. "Jon - Jonathan's alive?"

"Yes. Yes, he is. And he's very sick."

"Where is he?"

"He's outside. He needs help."

Without another word Julia started to grab a wheelchair, but Ryan stopped her with a frown. Understanding, she grabbed a gurney and followed him outside. She knelt down beside a barely conscious Jonathan. "Hey you."

"Hey," was all he could manage.

"Could you give me a hand," Julia directed to Ryan.

He gently extricated his brother from the car and helped him to lay down. Once inside, Ryan gave his hand a squeeze before Julia and another nurse whisked him away. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew Joe Martin was shaking him awake.

"Ryan, I'm sorry to wake you, but I understand you found Jonathan alive." Ryan nodded his confirmation. "If you could fill me in a little on his condition, it would help me to treat him."

"Yeah, of course." He offered what little information he knew about the burns and the surgeries and finished with the onset of the fever. "Please, Joe...you gotta help him. I can't lose him again."

"We'll do everything we can, Ryan." Dr. Martin gave him a fatherly pat on the shoulder and disappeared behind the double doors.

The waiting began. He was no stranger to it, but it didn't make it any easier. He checked the time and decided it wasn't too early to call. Annie should be on her way to work by now. He picked up the phone and began to dial.

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When Julia finally emerged from the room, Ryan shot out of his chair. "How is he? Is he going to be okay?"

She sighed audibly. "He's not doing so hot. What were you thinking driving all the way with him like that? That was really, really not smart."

Ryan ran his hand vigorously over his head and face. "I know. I know. Jonathan insisted and you know how hard-headed he is. I figured it would take more time to argue with him than to get him here, ya know?"

Julia relaxed a little and softened her tone. "He's got a pretty bad infection. He was starting to get septic, but Joe thinks it was caught in time. He's going to need another surgery."

"Well, how soon?"

Although the heat was on full blast, she hugged herself as if cold. "They have to stabilize him first. Right now he's not strong enough. He's also got a touch of pneumonia complicating things. They'd like to see it clear up a bit before that can happen. Hopefully soon."

"Can I see him now?"

"Yeah, just don't stay in there too long. He really needs to rest." She started to go, but turned around as a thought suddenly struck her. "Does Amanda know?"

"Not yet. And I have absolutely no clue how to tell her."

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Annie burst through the doors. She had been unable to slow down since Ryan's phone call. Julia was behind the desk of the nursing station, but was writing intently and hadn't seen her. Annie didn't wait for her to look up. "Is it true? Is he here?"

There was no need to ask who she was referring to. "Yeah, it's true." Julia's face split into a wide grin that was contagious.

"This is unbelievable! Where's Ryan?"

"He's in there with Jonathan." She illustrated which room with her pen.

"Thanks, Julia," she called back behind her as she went running down the hall. Annie made it as far as the door before she stopped short. Her elation was brought crashing down as she caught sight of who she believed to be Jonathan. There were so many tubes and wires and bandages surrounding him, it was difficult to be sure.

All the emotions of the past few months bubbled to the surface and came spilling out onto her cheeks. She wiped at her face and attempted to make herself presentable before she went in.

She pushed the door open a crack, not sure if she wanted to intrude. Her husband's voice came spilling out the door despite his hushed tones. "Please. Please, let them do it, Hockett."

"No!"

"Your body needs to rest to get better, Jonathan. And this will help."

"And I said...no. No. More. Tubes." His reply was halting and muffled.

"You're breathing - you know that thing you do to live - really sucks right now."

"You suck."

Annie had to stifle a laugh at that last comment. Even under these dire circumstances, each fell into the big brother/little brother role seamlessly. The refreshing banter was definitely welcome after the last few months of crushing silence.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what the conversation was about. Ryan meant well, but trying to force Jonathan into doing something he didn't want to do was only adding to the strain on him which, it was plain to see, he couldn't afford. Annie seized the opportunity to interrupt the tension.

"Hey you, welcome back!"

"Annie..." His voice shook with trepidation. She relieved his anxiety by moving in for a hug. His arm hung limply around her shoulders, too weak to give a proper squeeze. He removed the oxygen mask and struggled to raise up to kiss her cheek.

"Jon, put that back on-"

"Hey, Ryan. I could really use a cup of coffee. How about you," Annie not-so-subtly requested.

Ryan threw his hands up in mock-surrender as he left the room, realizing he was clearly outnumbered..

Annie and Jonathan shared a knowing look. "He's just worried about you, you know? The last few months were unbearable for him. For all of us."

"Annie..."

She cringed inwardly, realizing she unintentionally stoked the fires of his guilt. "There's no explanation needed. Obviously, you didn't know and weren't able to come back. But now that you're here, we just don't want to lose you again."

"How's Emma?"

"She's dealing."

"I want to see her, but I'm afraid," he swallowed hard, trying to catch his breath, "I'm afraid that she won't understand."

"It'll be hard to explain, but I think that after she sees you she won't care what exactly happened."

"Have you seen Amanda? How is she?"

"Physically, she's fine. But...she's had a rough time."

"I need to see her. I need to...God, this is so messed up."

Annie took a good look at him. His skin glistened with sweat from the effort of trying to produce enough air to form a sentence. "Soon. I think Ryan's right about one thing. You really need to focus on getting better. Not only for your sake, but for Amanda's and the baby's."

"Alright."

"'Alright', what?" Annie held her breath anticipating his response. She had appealed to his obligatory sense of responsibility. Both brothers were blessed - or cursed, depending on one's point of view - with an innate compulsion to choose the honorable path. Put to Jonathan the way it had been, she foresaw his choice as the one that would not only be best for him, but for his child as well.

Jonathan drew a shaky breath in resignation. "Alright. Tell them they can put the tube in."

Annie leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, feeling the dampness on her lips. "I know it's tough, but it's the right decision."

"Right." Jonathan took a sudden interest in the ceiling tiles. "Tell them to do it before I change my mind."

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"Ryan, are you sure you really want to be in here for this?" Dr. Martin studied him in disbelief.

Ryan nodded. "Yeah." He wasn't sure at all that he wanted to be here, but he knew Jonathan was terrified. He had promised him that he would be here with him every step of the way, and he vowed to himself that he would never break another promise to his brother ever again.

Dr. Martin still seemed doubtful, but he bit his tongue. Although it was highly unusual for family to be in the room during such a procedure, it was a highly unusual situation all the way around. He maneuvered himself around the equipment. "Alright, Jonathan. I'm going to give you some medicine to put you to sleep and them we'll put this tube in."

"How long will it be in?"

"At least a couple of days. We'll keep you sedated to keep you comfortable."

"That long, huh?" Ryan plainly saw the shadow of fear that passed over his brother's face. Jonathan set his jaw in determination. "Let's do this."

Ryan bent down to Jonathan's level to keep his focus on him instead of what was about to occur. "I'm going to be here the whole time, Hockett. I'll be right here when you wake up. Okay?"

Jonathan parted his lips to respond, but instead his eyes rolled back in his head and fell closed. It was a frightening sight. Ryan's breath caught in his throat at the unexpected speed at which the medicine worked. He shifted to give Joe room to work, holding onto his brother's hand the entire time. He struggled not to look as the tube was placed, but he got a peripheral glimpse despite his efforts.

"It's in," Joe said simply.

"This'll work?"

"It's going to help. Between the damage to his lungs and the pneumonia his breathing was suffering. His body was struggling so hard for breath there was nothing left to fight the infection. This way we can get a jump on the infection and get him into surgery."

"Okay. Thanks, Joe." The whole experience was more that a little unnerving. Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose and collapsed into the chair, suddenly weak in the knees.

"Can I get you anything?"

Ryan jumped up, startled. He hadn't heard Annie come in. "No. No, thank you."

"Hey, are you alright?" She rubbed his arm, frown lines deepening in her face.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess. Joe just put the tube in. It was a little unsettling to say the least." His hand brushed the top of his head as it often did in times of stress.

"You look tired. Why don't you take a break? I'll sit with Jonathan awhile."

Ryan hesitated, but then thought better of it. It had been awhile since he had put anything in his stomach. "Maybe I could use a cup of coffee or something."

"Take your time."

He headed for the door without responding. The door stuck in the open position, caught on a cart knocked askew. Ryan struggled to close it, realizing too late that the one person he feared showing up here was right in front of him. "Amanda."

"Ryan, what - what are you doing here?"

Stumbling, he scooted his foot against the door while nudging it with his hip. It gave with a large suctioning sound. "Uh- nothing. What are you doing here?"

"Just my monthly checkup."

"Oh." He checked over his shoulder to make sure the door had found its purchase.

"Are you sure you're alright? You're acting kinda weird."

"Yeah, fine. So are things going okay with the..."

"As well as can be expected."

An uncomfortable silence ensued. What should be a joyous occasion for everyone involved was overshadowed by the circumstances. Ryan debated revealing what was behind the proverbial door number one, but something gave him pause.

"Alright then. I guess I'll see you around."

Ryan held a hand up in a goodbye gesture and watched as she grew smaller and smaller down the hallway. He waited until she disappeared altogether before returning to the room. He leaned against the door, exhaling noisily.

"Ryan? What is it? What's wrong?" Annie's concern grew at his nervous exterior.

"Nothing. Nothing. I just - can I be alone with Jonathan for a little while?" His jumpiness was ill-concealed.

Annie knitted her brows together in quiet confusion. "Yeah, sure."

The door shut silently and without hindrance. A hush came over the room, broken only by the pings and beeps of the equipment. Ryan's hand encircled Jonathan's. "Amanda was here." He paused, searching for the words. "I didn't tell her about you.

"I don't know if that was the right decision or not. I don't want her to still be grieving you, but I kept hearing your voice in my head telling me you wanted to be the one to tell her what happened. And you have to be awake to do that. Did I do the right thing? I don't want anyone else to be hurt anymore. Please tell me I did the right thing."

To his astonishment, he felt a barely perceptible squeeze of his hand. Then he felt it again, only a little stronger. That was all the answer he needed. For better or worse, he had done what his brother would have wanted.

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Several days passed in a monotonous routine. Annie would come early in the morning before work and Ryan would return home for a quick shower. They became like passing ships in the night. The only thing that punctuated the sameness was the occasional appearances of the staff, changing medications, checking vital signs, updating the status as needed.

It was during one of these early morning excursions that Ryan returned to find Dr. Martin outside his brother's room wearing a weird smile. "Just the man I was coming to see."

His nerves awakened with an electrifying jolt. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Quite the contrary. I've got good news for a change." Ryan licked his lips in nervous anticipation. "Jonathan's fever broke. It appears we've finally found the right combination of antibiotics to stave off this infection."

"That's wonderful!"

"Yes," he agreed. "If his vitals hold stable we'll be able to take Jonathan into surgery in the morning and debride the wounds. That will remove the rest of the infection."

"Oh, thank God. Thanks, Joe."

"You bet."

Ryan faced the door to his brother's room and stared at it, exhaling deeply. Finally, it seemed things were righting themselves. He turned and came face to face with Aidan. "Aidan, what are you doing here at this hour?"

"I could ask you the same question, mate. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, things are finally looking up." They both sat down in the waiting room chairs.

"I've been worried about you. We all have. Amanda said she ran into you the other day and you were acting strange."

He fidgeted, his knee bouncing uncontrollably. "What made her say that?"

"You do seem a bit on edge." Aidan studied him, his detective sensibilities kicking into overdrive. "So what's going on?"

His mouth opened and closed of its own accord, any sound refusing to come out. It was a sick relief he felt when Annie came out of the door behind where he was sitting. However, it was short-lived. "Ryan, there you are. I'm going to be late for work. I didn't want to leave Jonathan alone." Her eyes found Aidan a split second too late. She clamped her mouth shut, wishing she could retract the words.

"Excuse me? Jonathan?" Aidan's mouth remained open in shock. Not waiting for a response, he rose and made his way to the door, undeterred by Ryan's weak attempts at blocking him.

Tentatively, he opened the door and crossed the threshold, unsure what - or who- lay beyond. His eyes took a second to adjust to the dim lighting, the curtains still shut against the morning sun. Slowly, he crept up to the still form. "Jonny?" He turned back to Ryan who hung back in the doorway. "I don't believe it."

"Believe it, man."

"How..."

Ryan placed a hand on his shoulder urging him back from the bedside. "C'mon outside and I'll explain everything."

Aidan stubbornly refused to move at first, not able to remove his eyes from the sight before him. With a lot of prodding, the elder Lavery managed to coax him out of the room.

"Hiding your brother again, are we," Aidan accused with righteous indignation.

"Yes. No. I mean..." he said trailing off, for once at a loss for words.

"Well, which is it?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Well, try. Because I've got a friend who's heartbroken who also happens to be carrying your brother's baby. Please tell me she hasn't been suffering all these months because of some selfish Lavery brothers scheme."

"You're out of line." Ryan stared him down. "Are you ready to stop jumping to conclusions?" Aidan indicated to Ryan to continue with a flip of his hand. "It was a miracle. I found him back in Iowa. He had no clue - NO CLUE what was going on back here.

"Jonathan was out of commission for quite awhile. He was hurt - really badly hurt. And sick when I found him. So...I brought him back here to be treated. He wanted to...but he was sicker than either of us thought, and now...now everything's screwed up."

Aidan really looked at Ryan for the first time. His face was haggard and etched with worry lines. The five o'clock shadow and red rimmed eyes gave him a wild appearance - results of multiple all-nighters. "Okay, but why all the secrecy now?"

"I know it doesn't make sense," Ryan admitted. "But can you imagine the circus if everyone found out? Jonathan was way too sick to deal with that. The first priority was getting him better."

"Amanda needs to know," Aidan insisted.

"Yes," Ryan agreed, "but Jonathan needs to be able to explain it himself. And as you can see, he's in no shape to do that."

"She needs to know," he repeated.

"I'm begging you Aidan...just a few more days. They're taking him to surgery in the morning and he should be well enough a day or two later...Just...please, Aidan."

"Three days, mate." Something akin to sympathy passed over his face. "I want Jonny to get better, too. But I also want Amanda to get better. She hasn't been right since...Well, none of us have. We all deserve a happy ending, but those two especially. They shouldn't be kept from it longer than need be."

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The surgery was lengthy, but successful, the infection nearly eradicated. Only a day later the tube came out and much to Ryan's great relief, his brother was once again conscious and talking.

Ryan entered the room, unable to contain the grin on his face. "I'm so glad you're back with us, Hockett."

"It's good to be back."

Jonathan struggled to shift positions, his strength still not fully returned. Ryan lent a supportive hand. "So..."

"So?"

"So are you feeling up to visitors?"

"Visitors plural?"

Ryan shrugged, feigning innocence. "Well, kind of."

Jonathan's brows furrowed in suspicion, but he didn't have a chance to voice any concerns. Ryan had closed the distance to the door in the tiny room before he could protest. The door seemed to open on its own. Ryan slipped through it quietly, his exit going virtually unnoticed by the pair that now were focused only on each other.

Amanda stood frozen by the sight before her. Her emotions swirled tumultuously, erupting to the surface leaving her unable to reign them in. The breaths hitched in her throat uncontrollably as she forced her feet to carry her forward. Her tears fell unchecked as she reached out and brushed his face lovingly, the hunger for the feel of his skin against hers satisfied at long last.

Jonathan kissed the palm of her hand tenderly, causing her sobs to come harder. There was so much to say - too much. Words were momentarily elusive. They explored one another, getting reacquainted with familiar feelings and warm touches.

Finally, reluctantly, Amanda pulled back. "Say something. Say something so that I know this is real and not just some lame dream."

The tentative hope in her voice was almost too much for him to bear. "Amanda, I'm so, so sorry..." The apology renewed the onslaught of tears. "If I had any idea...I would have come back if-"

Amanda stopped him with a kiss. "It's okay. You don't need to explain anymore." Jonathan looked at her quizzically, having braced himself for a long discussion. "Ryan told me everything."

A mixture of frustration and relief washed over him. He had wanted to recount it all to her himself. He felt he owed her that much. He just had no idea where to start. And Ryan had unknowingly robbed him of that option.

His face betrayed his emotions as it always did. "Ryan wasn't going to give up any information so I practically had to beat it out of him. You know how impatient I can be."

Jonathan laughed at the image of a seven month pregnant woman taking a whack at his tall, built brother. "Oh, I am so going to give him shit for that."

Amanda giggled. "I think I gave him enough for both of us." The smile faded and was replaced by a serious expression. "What I still don't understand is why you went up there in the first place."

"I don't know if I fully understand at this point." Jonathan paused, struggling to find the right words. "I guess I just thought that if I went back to where it all began, if I faced my past head on and destroyed what was left of it...I thought that maybe - maybe I could move on somehow."

She studied his face, watching the myriad of emotions that passed through him. It was difficult to gauge what he was thinking. "And...did it help? Have you been able to start to move on?"

"Maybe in some ways. But..." Jonathan gazed at her sadly, speaking with a raw honesty that he was unaccustomed to, but seemed to reserve only for her. "Amanda, I don't know if I can move past it all. I'm trying, but I can't promise I'll ever get there. I can't look you in the eye and swear to you I'll be that man."

"I don't need that man. I need the man that's been right in front of me the whole time. I'm just sorry I lost sight of that."

"Amanda..."

"No, let me finish. I fell in love with you because of who you are, and the past is part of who you are. You've never pretended otherwise. I can't ask you to change that. I wouldn't want you to. I love every part of you."

Jonathan couldn't doubt her sincerity. It was a foreign feeling, believing that someone besides Ryan and Erin loved him unconditionally. It was the warmest and safest feeling he had ever had, but also the scariest because it allowed him to admit what he had been denying for so long. The protective wall he had erected inside began to crumble just a little. "I love you, too."

Amanda outwardly radiated the happiness she felt within. She had waited for him not only to say those words to her, but say them with conviction. To not only allow himself to love her, but accept her love as the gift that it was and feel worthy of it. In his vulnerability she could see that he truly meant those words. He had taken a small, but very difficult and meaningful step.

"Yes."

"'Yes', what?"

"Yes, I'll marry you."

Jonathan just stared at her blankly. For once his expression was completely unreadable, making her a nervous wreck on the inside. "I'm sorry. Did you just say you'd marry me?"

Amanda struggled to keep up a calm facade. "I did. That is, if the offer still stands."

"It still stands." Jonathan smiled and reached for her hand. She laced her fingers through his, avoiding the tubes and wires.

She really looked at him for the first time. The dark circles under his eyes, the paleness, the general weariness that seemed to emanate from every pore of his slender frame spoke volumes of the hardships of the last few months. "How are you doing, Jonathan? Physically, I mean."

He sighed. "Okay. Tired mostly." And he did look thoroughly exhausted, she observed, the last few months noticeably taking its toll. "I don't really know right now."

"Maybe you should get some rest."

Instead of responding to her suggestion, he reciprocated by giving her the once over. "How are you feeling? I mean, how has everything been going?"

"Good. Everything's going as planned." She tipped her head to the side. The fluorescent lights picked up the sudden shine in her eyes. "But...now that you're here, things are perfect."

Doubling over, she was hit with a sharp pain that made her lose her train of thought. Jonathan's concern grew exponentially. "Hey, what is it? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she grinned. She grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach. "The baby's kicking."

"That's amazing!" He shifted his hand to move with the baby. "There it is again." He met her eyes, something akin to pride alight in them. "This right here is the best reason in the world to keep trying."

"Whoa," Amanda exclaimed as she felt another kick. "Our son is working on becoming the next David Beckham."

"Son?" Jonathan's eyes widened.

"Uh-huh. We're having a little boy."

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**EPILOGUE**

The reflection in the glass gave away Ryan's presence before he even reached Jonathan. The two brothers stood silently side by side, gazing at row upon row of newborn babies. Some were sleeping, and some were wailing inconsolably, their respective sounds joined in a chaotic symphony.

"They're amazing, aren't they?"

"So innocent. I wish they could stay that way forever. " Jonathan's tone was wistful as he leaned against the glass, transported for a brief moment back to the past.

Ryan couldn't help himself. His enthusiastic nature refused to be dampened. "Why so down? You're a new daddy. You should be, I don't know, excited or something."

"I am," he dead-panned.

"Well, you could have fooled me."

"I've just been in this place so long I forgot what the outside looks like." Jonathan was alluding to his lengthy hospital stay. Several months and two surgeries later, still more were needed, no certain end in sight. The baby coming had given him the excuse to postpone the next one indefinitely, giving him a much needed break from them.

"I'm also more terrified than I've ever been in my entire life."

Jonathan turned and took a step away, refusing to look his brother in the eye. "What if I can't protect him the way I wish we had been as kids? The way every kid should be..."

"Honestly, you can't always protect him from everything." Ryan shrugged apologetically.

"Thanks. That really makes me feel better," Jonathan said sarcastically.

"Look, the fact that you're even making that statement just proves you'll be great at this."

Jonathan let out a hollow, humorless laugh. "Well, I pretty much have the handbook on what not to do. Dad, he, uh - he was pretty much the example not to follow."

"Exactly," Ryan exclaimed. "That's my point. You, me - we're not destined to repeat the past. The cycle is broken. It stops here, with us." His last words were punctuated emphatically.

"We can never get rid of the past completely, Ryan. I've tried. It doesn't work that way." The ever-present sadness behind his eyes became more pronounced. "It's not just that. The things I've done will always come back to haunt me. There's no getting rid of that. How am I going to explain all those things to my son?"

"Think about it, Hockett. Everyone has skeletons in their closets. Some just rattle more loudly than others'."

Jonathan gave a cynical scoff. "Yeah."

"You're right. You can't change the past. You can only change yourself and how you react to the past. Embrace it, accept it, but don't let it control you and define who you are."

It was solid advice that Jonathan acknowledged with a nod. "Believe me, I've been working on it. Harder than you'll ever know. But it's like I take one step forward and two steps back."

"I know." Ryan bent down slightly and encircled the back of Jonathan's neck with his hand. "And I'm so damn proud of how you've fought through all the garbage and become the man you are."

Jonathan started to turn away again, never able to fully accept a compliment to his character, but Ryan wouldn't let him dismiss him this time. "When you were gone I felt like a part of me was missing - the best part of me. Like everything good in my life was ripped right out from under me. When I thought you died, a part of me did, too. I love you, Hockett. I love the little boy standing there with tears in his eyes while I was getting beat. I love the man that struggled back through his illness and all the fallout before and after. And I love the man standing before me - so much."

Ryan embraced Jonathan, tightening his hold when Jonathan tried to slip out. Jonathan continued to strain against his arms, but Ryan refused to let go. "I love of all you, Hockett."

Jonathan grimaced as if pained, but finally relaxed into his brother's arms. He had been on an emotional roller coaster his entire life, keeping his death-grip on the bar, afraid that if he let go he would somehow fly apart. But at one point he had to release his grip, throw his hands in the air and enjoy the ride. There was one truth he was absolutely sure of - his brother would be his constant passenger, never allowing him to jump the track. "I love you, too."

"Hang on to that love, to all the good you have. That's what will get you through."

"Part of me knows that, but part of me is always going to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everything good in my life I've ever had has been taken away."

"Not this time. This time will be different. You have a wonderful fiancee, a pretty great brother, I might add-"

"You're so humble. That's what I love about you."

"And," Ryan pointed at the nurse trying to get Jonathan's attention, "a son that is apparently hungry and needs his daddy."

Jonathan stood dumbfounded at the fatherly duty he was presented with. It was such a simple, yet big responsibility. Ryan nudged him in the ribs. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Jonathan disappeared through the doorway and sat in the rocking chair the nurse instructed him to. His foot tapped in nervous anticipation as she lay the brand new baby in his arms. He snuggled his son up against him as he offered him the bottle, slightly fumbling at the awkwardness.

The baby's hand slipped free of the blanket and reflexively wrapped his tiny hands around his finger. A fierce, protective love welled up inside of him, and he understood what Ryan had been trying so fruitlessly up until that point to make him understand.

The feeding took no time at all. As Jonathan placed him on his shoulder and instinctively rubbed his back, he caught Ryan observing him with an odd look on his face. Jonathan couldn't be sure, but he swore his brother was trying to suppress tears of joy. He wasn't so far off himself. Jonathan waved him in.

As he stood up he adjusted the blanket so the baby's face was more visible. "Are you ready to meet your nephew?"

"Look at him. He's so cute." Ryan offered his finger. "There's a question I've been dying to ask you." Jonathan looked at him expectantly. "What did you guys name him?"

Jonathan beamed. "I'm so glad you asked. Ryan, say hello to Aaron Trevor Lavery."

Ryan stood dumbstruck. "You named him after - Erin would love it. I wish she could see this."

"Me too." Jonathan gave this some thought. "I think she is here in a way. I think she had something to do with all this."

"You may be onto something there, Hockett."

"I think this is somebody's way up there of giving me a chance at redemption, helping me to move on. Honestly, I'm not sure if it'll happen completely, but it's a good start." Jonathan broke eye contact with Ryan and gazed upon his now-sleeping son. "I'm going to love you and be there for you and protect you like I never was. I promise you that."

Ryan marveled at the gentleness and compassion in his brother, traits that should have been impossible to flourish amidst the torture and anguish he had experienced at the hands of their parents. But here he was - a man with the unending capacity to love and finally accept the love he had been denied, and denied himself. He finally had the family he so craved and deserved. And Ryan couldn't have been happier for him.

"Are you ready for the rest of your life, Aaron," Jonathan whispered into his son's ear, stopping to place a kiss on his forehead. "I'm ready for mine.

Jonathan looked over at Ryan, both brothers surprised to see the moisture in each other's eyes. "You look exhausted, Hockett. Why don't you get some rest?"

"I don't want to leave him, Ryan."

"I'll look after him for awhile."

"Like you've looked after me all these years?"

"We've looked out for each other," Ryan corrected.

Jonathan handed over Aaron gently, reluctant to leave, but admitting to himself he was dead on his feet. He stumbled all the way to Amanda's room and lay himself down on the couch. He stared at his soon-to-be wife and marveled that even in her sleep, she exuded a beauty and intelligence that was incomparable.

As he watched her even breaths, he felt a sense of peace inside of him that he had never experienced before. A calm washed over him as thoughts of the future began to crowd out the memories, subduing the ghosts of the past. Jonathan drifted off, enveloped in the security of his new family, and for the first time, his sleep was dreamless.


End file.
